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IX THE COTTON FIELD 




The Story of Cotton 



BY 



ALICE TURNER CURTIS 

Author of "The Grandpa's Little Girls Books' 
**The Marjorie Books," &c. 



ILLUSTRATED BY 
HARRIET ROOSEVELT RICHARDS 



THE PENN PUBLISHING 

COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 

1911 






COPYKIGHT 
19 11 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 




The Story of Cotton 



Q'Cl./\2do2HG 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I A Trip to the Plantation 7 

II Phil Goes Fishing 20 

III In the Cotton Field 34 

IV Helen's Adventure 46 

V The Oil Mill 60 

VI Crossing Sweetwater Lake 73 

VII A Birthday Visit 85 

VIII Top and Zip 99 

IX Philip Visits a Cotton Mill . . . . .112 

X Phil Explains a ''Law" 124 

XI Vegetable Lambs 134 

XII Clubs and Cotton .146 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

In the cotton field Frontispiece 

Sitting in the open doorway 15 

Across the fields to the brook 29 

"I'll hurry down and surprise her" 51 

The boy carefully plucked the white lint 63 

They reached the long grass without accident .... 79 

Glasses of cool lemonade 93 

The children worked happily 10 1 

*' I have a surprise for you " I2i 




THE STORY OF COTTON 

CHAPTER I 

A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

HILIP PIEDMONT was very 
busy sharpening his pocket-knife 
in the little workshop near the 
stable when he heard his father 
calling, 'Thilip! Philip, don't you 
w^ant to go out to the plantation 
with me this morning?" 

Philip ran out into the driveway, and saw his 
father already seated in the light wagon and hold- 
ing the reins over a big bay horse. '^Yes, indeed, 
father," he replied; ^^I always want to go out to 
the plantation, especially Saturdays. Isn't Helen 
going?" and he looked toward the house for his 

7 



i^ 


i^ ■■ 


p| 




W^ 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

younger sister, who was always ready for a drive 
with her father and brother. 

^Waiting for Helen," called Mr. Piedmont, and 
at the same moment Helen appeared at the piazza 
door, tying on her big sun-hat. Her mother was 
beside her, and cautioned the little girl not to play 
in the sun too long; for the April sun is hot in 
South Carolina. 

^'Aunt Cassie will look after Helen," Mr. Pied- 
mont assured his wife, '^and we'll be home by sun- 
set," and the little party started merrily off for Mr. 
Piedmont's cotton plantation, which was situated 
about five miles from Columbia, South Carolina. 

It was the very first of April, a clear, sunny day, 
and as they drove by the big cotton-mills on the 
outskirts of the town and heard the whirr of the 
machinery, Phil announced, ^T am going to have a 
cotton-mill of my own, some day." 

''Well, I am going to live on father's plantation 
when I grow up," declared Helen; "I think it is 
much nicer to watch cotton grow than to see it 
made into yarn and cloth." 

"Well, I know there's lots of fun on a planta- 

8 



A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

tion; there's 'possums to be caught for one thing," 
said Phil thoughtfully. 

'^Yes, and the mocking-birds," said Helen. 
^'Vv^hy, they sing so much sweeter out there; and 
there are so many more of them. Why don't we 
live at the plantation, father?" 

"Chiefly on your account and Phil's," answered 
her father smilingly; ''it is much better for you to 
go to school in Columbia than to run about on the 
plantation." 

It was not long before they came in sight of the 
plantation buildings — a square white house with 
verandas, w^here Aunt Cassie kept house for Mr. 
Piedmont's overseer, and a short way off a long 
row of sheds where the cotton w^as stored, ginned 
and baled and made ready for market. 

"There's Aunt Cassie now!" Helen exclaimed, 
as they turned in the driveway. A large black 
woman in a cotton dress, and a white turban on 
her head, stood smiling on the steps. She made 
a low curtsy as her visitors stepped from the 
wagon. 

"I'm right glad to see yer, honey," she said as 

9 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

Helen called out, ''Aunt Cassle, I can stay all 
day." 

Mr. Piedmont and Philip left the little girl on 
the porch steps and drove down into the field, 
where they saw the overseer, Mr. Smith, directing 
the laborers. 

''Good morning, sir," said Mr. Smith, coming 
up to the wagon. "You see we are getting a good 
start. I have thirty acres all ready for the seed 
besides this field we are planting." 

There were three colored men at work very near 
where they had stopped. Philip noticed that the 
man ahead chopped a hole with a hoe, on the top 
of the raised bed of earth, at intervals of about 
twelve inches ; the man right behind him dropped 
eight or ten cottonseeds in each hole, and the third 
negro followed him and carefully covered the 
seed. 

"How much seed does it take to plant an acre, 
Mr. Smith?" questioned Philip. 

"About three or four pecks," replied Mr. Smith; 
"with this weather the seed ought to be up in ten 

lO 



A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

days from now. I think everything looks well for 
a good crop." 

Philip was ten years old and had made many 
visits to the plantation, but had never felt so much 
interested in the planting of cotton, and he listened 
eagerly to all Mr. Smith had to tell his father 
about the condition of the ground. 

''We ought to begin hoeing by the first of May," 
decided Mr. Piedmont, looking approvingly along 
the straight lines of furrows on each side of the 
cotton beds. 

"Yes, sir, the first blossoms will be out early in 
June, and by that time the plants ought to be fif- 
teen inches high. We will be able to begin pick- 
ing in August this year, I think." 

"Don't be too hopeful. Smith," responded Mr. 
Piedmont laughingly; "I'll drive back to the sta- 
ble now and leave the horse. I want to look over 
the gin a little, and see what repairs are needed." 

"What is the 'gin,' father?" questioned Philip. 
"Of course I know it's a machine that cleans cot- 
ton, but I don't really know what it is." 

II 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

'Wait until we get up to the cotton sheds," an- 
swered his father. ''Here, Tom!" he called, and 
a bright-eyed negro boy came running out of the 
stable and took charge of the team, and Mr. Pied- 
mont and Philip walked across the yard and en- 
tered one of the larger sheds. 

"This is a cotton-gin," said Mr. Piedmont. 

Philip laughed. "I know a cotton-gin when I 
see one," he answered, "but I reckon I don't know 
just what it is." 

"Well, this is a saw gin," replied his father. 
"The old kinds were known as roller gins, and 
those were pretty nearly as old as cotton itself. I 
suppose the first gin was a flat stone, on which the 
seed cotton was placed, and a wooden roller, 
moved by the foot, was employed to press the seed 
out. But this, you know, takes a steam engine to 
run it. See these two cylinders," and Mr. Pied- 
mont pointed to the two cylinders of different 
sizes, mounted in a strong wooden frame; "you 
see one of these has a number of circular saws 
fitted into grooves cut in the cylinder. The other 
is a hollow cylinder mounted with brushes, the 

12 



A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

tips of whose bristles touch the saw-teeth. Now 
you have seen the cotton put into the hopper; 
there it is met by the sharp teeth of the saws, torn 
from the seed, and carried to a point where the 
brushes sweep it off into a convenient box. The 
seeds are too large to pass between the bars 
through which the saws stand out." 

^T believe I could make a little one myself," de- 
clared Philip, looking over the machine with more 
interest than he had ever shown before. 

^'Well, Eli Whitney, who invented this machine, 
began making things when he was about your 
age, my boy," replied Mr. Piedmont encour- 
agingly. 'Tie was only twelve years old when he 
made a very good violin; but the cotton-gin was 
the most useful thing he ever made." 

''How was the cotton cleaned in old times?" 
questioned Philip. 

"The negroes used to clean it by hand, gener- 
ally in the evening, after the work of the field 
was over. To separate one pound of clean cot- 
ton from the seed was a day's work for a woman." 

While Philip and his father had been talking 

13 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

about the cotton-gin, Helen had followed Aunt 
Cassie to the kitchen, and was sitting in the open 
doorway enjoying a drink of cool milk and listen- 
ing to the good-natured colored woman's talk. 

''Declar' if don't seem good to have white chil- 
lun 'bout the place," she said, breaking some eggs 
into a china bowl and beginning to beat them vig- 
orously with a long-handled spoon; ^Tm jes' 
gwine to beat you up a little cake for luncheon, 
missy," she continued smilingly. "Land sakes, 
seems like ol' times to see a little girl sittin' in my 
kitchen door. Your ma used to sit there her very 
own self, missy, when she wan't no bigeer'n you 
be." 

"What did my mother used to do when she was 
about as big as I am?" questioned Helen eagerly. 

Aunt Cassie chuckled. "She used to do all sorts 
of things," she replied, "but she just admired 
most to sit right in that kitchen door an' hear me 
tell 'bout the days when there was nigh a hundred 
men workin' these cotton fields; and when your 
grandma had a dozen of us tendin' to the house. 
Those were great days, missy!" 

14 




SITTING IX THE OPEN DOORWAY 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

Helen finished her milk and set the glass care- 
fully on the table. 'T think I'll go out and play 
under the pine trees, Aunt Cassie," she said; *'you 
can call me when the cake's ready." 

"Sho' I will, missy; but keep where you'll 
hear when I do call." 

^'Yes, indeed. Why, you can see me. Aunt Cas- 
sie, if you step to the door." 

Aunt Cassie nodded, and Helen went across the 
driveway into the shade of a grove of tall pines. 
She could see the plowed fields and the men at 
work. 

"It isn't nearly so pretty as when the cotton is 
in blossom," she said aloud, and seated herself on 
the thick bed of pine spills. Just above her she 
could hear the musical calls of the birds, and on 
the further side of the driveway a little peach 
orchard was in full bloom. 

She picked up the big cones of the pine and be- 
gan setting them about in squares. ''This is a 
house, and this is a garden," she said aloud, and 
just then heard her name called from the direc- 
tion of the stable. "Helen! Helen!" 

i6 



A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

^That's Phil," she exclaimed, and forgetting all 
about the house and garden, she ran down the 
driveway. 

^^Come on, Helen," called her brother; '^Tom 
has a tame 'possum down at his cabin, and he's 
going to let us see it." 

^' 'Tain't 'zackly tame," interrupted the negro 
boy, ^^but it's caught, an' I reckon that's about all 
I kin say," and he smiled good-naturedly. 

Tom was several years older than Philip, and 
had always lived on the plantation. Philip 
thought the colored boy very fortunate because he 
had the whole plantation as a playground; could 
make himself useful about the stables, go on 'pos- 
sum hunts with the men, and on fishing excur- 
sions to Sweetwater pond. 

Philip and Helen listened eagerly to Tom's 
story of the capture of the opossum, and soon 
reached a neat little cabin back of the cotton sheds 
where Tom's parents lived. 

*'My, it looks like a cat!" exclaimed Helen, as 
she saw a little animal in a box, the open side cov- 
ered with wire netting. 

17 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

''Cats don't have such long ears," said Philip, 
*'nor such a long nose." 

The little creature curled itself up in the further 
corner of the box, and looked so frightened and 
unhappy that Helen did not take much pleasure 
in looking at it. 

"I think you ought to let it out, Tom," she said, 
but Tom shook his head. 

''My mammy is gwine to roast him," he said; 
''gwine to bake sweet potatoes and have a fine 
'possum dinner." 

"I wouldn't eat it," declared Helen. "I do 
wish you'd let it out, Tom!" 

But Tom was not to be persuaded, and Helen 
left her brother at the cabin and walked back to- 
ward the house. As she passed the cotton sheds 
her father called to her. "Come here, Helen," 
he said; "here's something you will like to see." 

"Oh, father! May I have one?" exclaimed 
Helen, for her father was holding two little fat 
black spaniel puppies in his arms. 

"Why, yes, you may have them both," answered 
Mr. Piedmont, "but they will have to live here at 

i8 



A TRIP TO THE PLANTATION 

the plantation; and when you come out you can 
have them to play with." 

'T do wish we lived here, father," said Helen, 
as she took one of the puppies in her arms and 
smoothed its shining head. ^'I would rather live 
here than anywhere in the world." 

^Well, I think we must persuade your mother 
to come out and stay through the summer, until 
after the cotton is gathered. When does school 
close?" 

''The last of May," said Helen, ''nearly two 
months more. Why, father, the puppies will be 
nearly grown up then." 

"No, indeed they won't; but they will be just 
old enough to be a nuisance," laughed Mr. Pied- 
mont; "but I think I can promise you that by the 
time the cotton is in blossom we will all be here 
at the plantation for the summer. And there is 
Aunt Cassie ringing the bell for luncheon, so we 
must hurry back to the house." 



19 





CHAPTER II 

PHIL GOES FISHING 

T was early June when the Pied- 
monts moved out to the plantation, 
and now came busy days for Mr. 
Piedmont and for Philip, too, for 
the boy was always in the fields, 
and always found some new thing 
to interest him. 

One morning he found Tom with a very long 
face. 

"What's the trouble, Tom?'' he asked, "lost your 
'possum?" 

"Wus' 'n that," answered Tom, rolling his eyes 
solemnly. 

"What is it?" 

20 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

"Weevils," answered Tom. 

Phil laughed. "A weevil is a bad thing for 
cotton, I know, but they needn't make you look 
quite so sober." 

Tom looked at Phil a little scornfully. 'T 
reckon you don'no much 'bout weevils," he re- 
plied. 

"What do you know about them?" asked Phil. 

"I knows they're terrible little, no longer than 
a quarter of an inch, and they're gray, and Boss 
Smith kalkilates to have me pick 'em," and Tom 
walked slowly on toward the field. 

"I'll ask father about weevils," resolved Phil. 
"I don't see how a little bit of a thing like that 
could do so much harm," and he hurried after his 
father, w^ho was walking some distance ahead. 

"Father, what makes cotton-boll weevils so dan- 
gerous?" he asked. 

"They eat up the plant," answered Mr. Pied- 
mont; "they are one of the worst enemies to cot- 
ton. If we did not keep a close watch on this 
little pest there would not be a blossom in all this 
cotton field. It hides away under the rubbish at 

21 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

the surface of the ground, or among weeds and 
trash at the margin of the fields, where it stays all 
winter and is ready for the new plants in the 
spring. A good cotton planter, my boy, has to 
have his eyes out for all sorts of things." 

''Can't you get rid of them?" questioned Philip. 

''A good sharp frost in December is the best 
remedy," responded Mr. Piedmont, ''for it will 
kill all those insects which have not reached the 
beetle stage. But we can't trust always to frost; 
as soon as we see signs of the boll-weevil we send 
out the boys and men to pick them from the plants 
and destroy them. That's what will keep Tom 
busy for a while. It doesn't do to let the weevils 
get ahead of us." 

"Is there anything else that hurts a cotton 
plant?" asked Philip. 

"I must show you my book on ^Cotton Insects,' " 
replied Mr. Piedmont. "I believe it tells of 
nearly five hundred which hurt the cotton plant 
more or less. As soon as a young plant comes up 
it has to begin a fight for its life. There is a cat- 
erpillar called a cut-worm, which will cut the 

22 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

young plant off at the surface of the ground. It 
hides in the earth during the day and does its work 
at night. And while the plant is young and ten- 
der, plant lice gather upon it, and later on all 
sorts of plant bugs and beetles appear to feed 
upon it. There are many interesting stories of 
the way they work." 

''Does cotton grow anywhere else than in South 
Carolina?" 

'Tes, Philip. Cotton was one of the valuable 
plants of the w^orld before South Carolina was 
ever discovered. Weren't you reading a book 
about the Hindoos last winter?" 

"Yes, sir. But I don't think it said anything 
about cotton," replied Philip. 

"Perhaps not, but as far as the history of cotton 
can be traced, the Hindoos were the first people 
to make use of it. Here comes Tom with some 
message from the house," he concluded as the ne- 
gro boy came running down the field. 

"Missy Helen can't find the puppies," he said, 
as soon as he came within hearing. "She was 
playing with them under the pine trees, and she 

23 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

went after a drink and when she come back the 
puppies were gone." 

^'You'll have to go help find them, Philip," said 
Mr. Piedmont. 

''But tell me where else cotton grows be- 
sides South Carolina," insisted Philip. 

Mr. Piedmont laughed, but he was well pleased 
with the boy's interest. 

''Let me see," he said slowly. "Cotton grows 
in India, Egypt, China, Japan, Africa, Asia, Italy, 
and when Columbus landed in the West Indies 
in 1492 he found the people using its fiber to 
weave cloth. Now run and help your sister find 
the puppies." 

"I say, Tom," said Philip, as the two boys hur- 
ried back toward the house, "anybody has to know 
a lot to raise cotton." 

"I s'pect they do," agreed Tom, "but, let me 
tell you, you have to know a sight to get a chance 
to go fishin' these days, too. Seems if I didn't get 
a day off more'n half the time." 

"Can't we go this afternoon?" replied Philip 
eagerly. 

24 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

''Can if you'll tell Mister Smith to let me have 
a breathin' spell from pickin' weevils," said the 
colored boy hopefully. ^'I jes' natcherly despise 
them weevils." 

''I'll ask my father," said Philip. "There's 
Helen now. Where did you leave the puppies, 
Helen?" 

"Right near the driveway, Phil," answered the 
little girl, "and I wasn't gone two minutes, and 
Tom looked everywhere for them, didn't you, 
Tom?" 

"I sure did 'cept up in the trees, an' I knowed 
they wan't there." 

"Git right out o' my kitchen," sounded Aunt 
Cassie's voice; "I 'clare to goodness if one o' them 
dogs wan't a walkin' right into my oven, an' the 
other one a-scramblin' roun' in de pantry like he 
was crazy." And Aunt Cassie appeared at the 
corner of the house shooing the two fat puppies 
ahead of her. 

"They must have followed me up to the kitchen 
and hid," exclaimed Helen, running to recapture 
her pets. 

25 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

''You ought to name those puppies," declared 
Philip. 

'Why, Phil Piedmont! They were named last 
April, the very day Mr. Smith gave them to fa- 
ther. Don't 3^ou remember? Mr. Smith named 
them 'Tip' and 'Top' because he said they were 
tiptop dogs," said Helen. 

"I recollect," announced Tom, but Philip said 
that he had never heard them called anything but 
puppies. 

"Which is Tip?" he questioned. 

"The one with the white nose," explained 
Helen. 

Mr. Piedmont gave his consent for Philip and 
Tom to go fishing. They planned to follow up a 
small stream which flowed across one end of the 
plantation, where Tom often caught chub and an 
occasional trout. 

"You can go, too, Helen, if you'll fasten up 
those puppies so they won't follow us," said 
Philip. But Helen had other plans. She and 
her mother were going for a drive that afternoon 
to see an old negress who had formerly lived at the 

26 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

plantation, but who now lived with her grand- 
children. They owned a small plantation of 
their own some two miles from the Piedmont 
place. 

Aunt Juno, as the old negress was called, had 
formerly been a skilled weaver of cotton cloth in 
the days when each plantation manufactured its 
own cloth. Aunt Juno still had her own loom, 
spinning wheel, and cards, which she had used 
for many years, and took great delight in telling 
of the old days, and Mrs. Piedmont wanted Helen 
to hear Aunt Juno tell of those old times. 

'What is a Sveaver,' mother?'' questioned 
Helen, as they drove along the pleasant road 
shaded by locust trees. '^I thought weavers 
worked in mills." 

^'So they do, Plelen. But years ago, when there 
were not so many mills, women used to weave a 
great deal of cloth. Why, that blue and white 
bedspread on your bed was woven on this very 
plantation. The cotton grew in our fields. Aunt 
Juno spun and carded the cotton, and your grand- 
mother wove the spread." 

27 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

^'But how did she get blue cotton?" asked 
Helen. 

"She colored it with indigo," answered her 
mother; "when you begin to study botany you will 
learn a great deal about cotton and about indigo, 
too, for they are both very interesting plants." 

"Tell me about them now, mother," asked 
Helen, leaning back in the roomy phaeton; "tell 
me about cotton. I mean tell me what I will 
learn about it when I study botany." 

"You will learn that it is ^herbaceous, shrubby 
or arborescent,' " replied Mrs. Piedmont with a 
little laugh at her small daughter's puzzled look, 
"and you will also learn something which you can 
find out for yourself right in the cotton field, that 
it has a silky fiber which clings closely to the 
seeds." 

"But won't I learn interesting things about it 
in botany?" questioned Helen. 

"Yes, indeed, you will. You will learn that 
some cotton has a yellow lint instead of white, 
but that is generally a wild variety. And you will 
find out that covering the cotton fiber is a sort of 

28 




ACROSS THE FIELDS TOWARD THE BROOK 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

varnish known as cotton wax. This has to be re- 
moved before the fiber can be dyed," replied Mrs. 
Piedmont, ''but I think Aunt Juno can tell you 
more interesting things about It than I can." 

''But Aunt Juno never studied botany," ob- 
jected Helen. 

"She has studied cotton," answered her mother; 
"she has gathered it in the fields, cleaned it from 
seeds and dirt, spun it into yarn for stockings, 
dyed it, and woven cloth of it." 

While Helen and her mother were enjoying 
their drive, Philip and Tom tramped sturdily 
across the fields toward the brook. They each 
carried a light bamboo fishing-rod which Mr. 
Smith had loaned them, and Tom had an old tin 
can filled with w^orms for bait. The afternoon 
sun was very hot, and the boys were glad enough 
to reach the shade of a small grove of oak trees 
near the stream. They stopped to rest for a few 
minutes. 

"My, this is like w^orking in a cotton field," de- 
clared Phil, taking ofif his broad-brimmed straw 
hat, and fanning his flushed face. 

30 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

^'No, sah! 'Tain't a bit like it," responded 
Tom; ^' 'course it's jest as hot, but it's a sight dif- 
'runt. Now, if we wus a-pickin' weeds in a cot- 
ton field 'twould be cos' we had to. But gettin' 
hot goin' fishin' is 'cos we likes to." 

'Well, come on," said Phil; ''I can see the 
brook now." 

" 'Tain't no time to catch fish," grumbled the 
colored boy; ^'ought to start out 'fore sun-up. 
Then's when they'se lookin' about for breakfus'. 
'Bout now they'se crawled into a shady place an' 
takin' a nap. I'm terribul sleepy myself." 

'Well, wade along the edge of that brook and 
that will wake up the fish and you too," answered 
Philip. 

Keeping well in the shade the boys followed 
the stream to where it fell over a bed of rough 
stones. There was fall enough to make a little 
cascade and the boys stopped to look at it admir- 
ingly. 

''This is just the place for fish," declared 
Philip. "See, the sun hardly gets in here at all; 
it is shady and cool. I'll bet I can get a good 

31 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

trout here," and he baited his hook carefully and 
made a skillful throw toward a big rock at the foot 
of the waterfall. 

'^I 'spect you will," answered Tom admiringly, 
*^but Fm so powerful sleepy I'm jus' gwine to lie 
down a minute or two under this tree," and Tom 
curled himself up comfortably while Phil 
watched his line eagerly. 

He clambered on over the rocks, skirted the 
waterfall and found dark, shady pools above it. 
But he had gone some distance up the stream be- 
fore he caught his first fish. It was a fine trout, 
and the boy wrapped it carefully in wet oak 
leaves and put it between two large stones. '^Fll 
get it when I come back," he resolved, ^'and Aunt 
Cassie can cook it for father's supper," and he 
went on with hardly a thought of Tom, Avho was 
fast asleep under the oak tree. 

Mrs. Piedmont and Helen returned from their 
visit in good season for supper. 

^Where's Phil?" exclaimed Helen as her fa- 
ther came up on the shady veranda. 

''He went fishing with Tom. About time he 

32 



PHIL GOES FISHING 

was back," answered Mr. Piedmont. *'Why, 
there is Tom now. Tom, where's Philip?" he 
called. 

"Ain't he come home?" responded the negro 
boy in a surprised tone. "I s'posed he'd cum 
home. I took a little sleep up the brook a-ways 
and when I woke up I couldn't see nuthin' of him 
so I cum along home." 

Mr. Piedmont did not feel anxious about 
Philip, for he did not think the boy would be 
long absent; but when the hour for supper came 
and went and the sun began to approach the west- 
ern horizon he resolved to go after him, and with 
Tom to lead the way started toward the stream. 



33 





CHAPTER III 

IN THE COTTON FIELD 

UST as they came in sight of the lit- 
tle waterfall Mr. Piedmont heard 
a measured "tap, tap,'^ as if some- 
one was hammering. 

* What's that noise, Tom?" he 
asked. 

Tom shook his head, ^'You don't reckon 'tw^ould 
be spooks, does you, Mister Piedmont?" he said, 
rolling his eyes toward his companion. 

"Spooks! Nonsense, Tom! You know well 
enough there isn't any such thing," replied Mr. 
Piedmont. 

^'Yas, sah," agreed Tom, but he kept very close 
to Mr. Piedmont's side, and peered cautiously 

34 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

ahead through the gathering shadows, " 'Twas 
right here I went to sleep, sah!" he said, pointing 
out the oak tree, "an' Philip, he climb up over 
those rocks." 

The tapping noise grew louder, and as Mr. 
Piedmont clambered over the rough ground and 
reached a little level bank he exclaimed in amaze- 
ment: 

"Philip Piedmont!" For there was Phil, stand- 
ing in water half-way to his knees and busily en- 
gaged in hammering one rock with another. 

"What in the world are you doing, Phil?" ex- 
claimed his father; "why didn't you come home 
with Tom?" 

"Didn't know that Tom had gone home," de- 
clared Philip ; "thought he w^as asleep. Look out 
where you step there, father; I've made a water- 
wheel, and here's just the place to put it if I can 
break off the corner of this rock. Do you know 
there's w^ater-power enough here to run a cotton- 
gin?" 

Mr. Piedmont laughed. "Well, it's way past 
supper-time," he answered, "and you'll have to 

35 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

wade ashore and leave your water-wheel until 
some other time." 

Philip obeyed promptly. 'TVe been thinking 
all day about that man who invented the cotton- 
gin," he said, as they walked toward home, Tom 
hurrying on well in advance of them. ^^How 
many years ago was it?" 

"It was in 1793," replied Mr. Piedmont, "and 
when Whitney applied for his first patent, the total 
export of cotton was less than ten thousand bales, 
and, thanks to Whitney's invention, fifty years 
later it w^as four million bales; and the value of 
his famous invention has grown so that its money 
importance to this country can scarcely be esti- 
mated." 

"And he began to make things when He wasn't 
any older than I am?" questioned Philip. 

"Yes, but I don't believe he forgot when it was 
supper-time," responded Mr. Piedmont; "he not 
only made things but he unmade them. One day, 
when he was about your age, he took his father's 
watch apart, but he was able to put it together 
again so neatly that his father never discovered it 

36 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

until he himself told him many years after- 
ward." 

^^Oh, father!" exclaimed Philip, coming to a 
standstill, ^T caught a splendid trout. It's back 
near my water-wheel, I must go get it," and he 
turned and ran swiftly toward the waterfall and 
soon returned, bringing the fish carefully wrapped 
in the oak leaves. 

The morning after the fishing excursion, Philip 
was up in good season, for he had heard Mr. 
Smith say that the negroes wxre to begin ^^cul- 
tivating" that morning, and Philip wanted to be 
on hand when they started out. The cotton fields 
had already been freed from weeds by hand-hoe- 
ings and now it was time for the plows to break 
out the spaces between the beds, while the hoe 
hands were to follow and pull up close to the foot 
of the cotton plants the loose dirt left by the 
plows. This is called '^hauling," and by it the 
cotton is kept from falling dov/n, and the grass is 
kept under. 

Philip found that his father and Mr. Smith had 
just seated themselves at the breakfast-table, so he 

in 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

was in good time to go out to the fields with 
them. 

''How would you like to ride the new sulky 
cultivator, Phil?" asked his father, as they finished 
breakfast and made their way toward the stables. 

"I'd like to," answered Phil enthusiastically, 
and he was soon mounted on the seat of a machine 
pulled by two horses. The sulky cultivator, he 
found, had large metal disks or plates that re- 
volved, three on each side of the row of plants, 
cutting the earth into fine pieces and throwing it 
up toward the roots of the cotton. Mr. Smith 
swung Phil up to the seat and handed him the 
reins. 

''The horses will go steadily almost without any 
driving," he said, "and I shall keep pace with you 
in the next row." 

There were several of these plows, or cultiva- 
tors, standing ready to go into the cotton fields, 
and Philip felt as if he were really beginning to 
be a cotton-planter as he started his team along 
one of the straight, long furrows. But by the time 
he had gone down two long furrows and back 

38 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

he was quite ready to give up his place to a pleas- 
ant-faced colored man who w^as waiting. The sun 
was very hot, and, although the horses went 
steadily, Phil did not think the high seat of the 
sulky very comfortable. 

^Well, Philip, how do you like cultivating?" 
questioned his father. 

'T like it," declared Philip, ''but not so well as 
I do seeing it done. How long will it be before 
the crop will be ready to gather?" 

''Not before early in September this year," an- 
swered Mr. Piedmont. "I hope we shall have a 
fair amount of rain the coming month or the fiber 
will not develop w^ell." 

"What is fiber?" asked Phil, curiously. 

"Come up to the house where we can find a little 
shade, and I will tell you," replied his father, and 
they were soon seated on the shady veranda from 
which they could look off across the fields. 

"The first thing in comparing samples of cotton, 
as you wdll know when you become a cotton manu- 
facturer," began Mr. Piedmont, "is the difference 
in the length and the fineness of the fiber. Now 

39 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

you want to know what the fiber really is? Well, 
a perfect cotton fiber consists of four parts: i, 
an outer membrane, or skin; 2, the real cellulose, 
which is 85 per cent, of the fiber; 3, a central spiral 
deposit of a harder nature than the rest of the 
fiber; and 4, a central secretion that corresponds 
somewhat to the pith of a quill," and Mr. Pied- 
mont nodded smilingly toward Philip as if the 
subject was fully explained, but Phil's puzzled 
look made him realize that there was something 
more to say. 

'Til try again," he said laughingly; ^^you know 
the boll or pod, of the cotton plant?" 

^^Yes, indeed, father. It's round like a walnut, 
and the seeds and lint are in it." 

^^Yes. Now if we should take one of these bolls 
before it was fully grown, and cut it open, we 
would find that it is divided into three or more 
parts, and the seed w^ill be shown attached to the 
inner angle of each division. The seeds retain this 
attachment until they have nearly reached their full 
size and the growth of lint has begun on them, 
then as the lint increases in growth it forces the 

40 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

seed toward the center of the boll. The develop- 
ment of the fiber commences at the end of the seed 
farthest from its attachment, and gradually spreads 
over the seed as the process of growth continues. 
The first appearance of the cotton fiber occurs 
some time before the seed has attained its full 
growth. The continued growth of this mass of 
fiber assists in bursting open the pod when it is 
ripe. The fibers do not attain their full length 
until the pod has been opened and the fibers are 
exposed to the drying and ripening effect of the 
air and sun." 

'Why, then fiber is the cotton," exclaimed 
Philip. 

"Yes," replied Mr. Piedmont, "but we mustn't 
forget that cotton-seed is nearly as important as the 
fiber itself." 

"They make oil out of it," said Philip. 

"Why, yes, Phil, that is one of the things they 
make, and you and I must make a trip over to Mr. 
Mason's mill and see them extract the oil from the 
seed. It will be interesting for you to watch the 
process." 

41 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

^^I know the cattle like cotton-seed meal," said 
Philip ; ^'the cows like it and so do the mules, and 
Aunt Cassie feeds it to the chickens." 

^'Yes, this meal is made from the cotton-seed, 
ground just as com is, after the oil has been pressed 
out. You will see how the meal is prepared at 
Mason's mill." 

^^When can we go, father?" 

Mr. Piedmont laughed at his son's eagerness, 
^^ust as soon as the cotton is gathered and ginned," 
he replied, "and probably that will not be until 
well into October." 

"I shall be glad when the cotton is ready to 
gather," said Philip. "I am going to try to make 
a little gin over at the brook and run it by water- 
power." 

'That's quite an idea, Philip," said Mr. Pied- 
mont; "you shall gather the first cotton that ripens 
for your gin. Where is Helen? I have not seen 
her this morning." 

"Neither have I," responded Philip, "but she is 
usually playing with Tip and Top in the pine 
grove. I'll go and find her." 

42 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

A little canvas square had been fastened between 
two pine trees about five feet from the ground, 
and under this Helen had established her play- 
house, and here Philip found her. Top was 
asleep, but Tip was being taught to offer his paw 
to shake hands. 

^^He has held out his paw tw^ice, Phil/' ex- 
claimed Helen as her brother came into the grove; 
^'but I'm tired of teaching him. It's most too 
warm to do anything/' and she leaned back against 
a tree while Tip sauntered off and lay down be- 
side Top. 

^'Come up on the veranda," said Philip ; ^'father 
wants to see you, and Aunt Cassie is making some 
lemonade." 

The two children found their mother on the 
veranda when they returned, and Aunt Cassie soon 
appeared with glasses and a pitcher, in w^hich the 
ice jingled pleasantly. 

''This is a good deal better than a hot cotton field, 
isn't it, Phil?" said Mr. Piedmont, as he poured 
out a glass of the cool drink. 

^'I like the cotton field," declared the boy; 

43 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

^'there's always a lot to see and do there. Why, 
its fun just to see Tom pull weeds. He acts as 
if he would go to sleep over every one." 

^'I think I shall keep Tom up at the stables until 
the crop is ready to gather. The heat seems too 
much for him/' said Mr. Piedmont. 

^* 'Tain't the heat what ails Tom, Massa Pied- 
mont/' said Aunt Cassie with a chuckle; ^'he's my 
own gran'son an I knows jes' what ails him." 

^What is it, Aunt Cassie?" questioned Mr. Pied- 
mont. 

^^He's jes' natchully lazy," declared the old 
colored w^oman, '^an' his maw don't seem to have 
the strength to reason it out of him, like I did wif 
his paw." 

*T'll keep him busy at the stables, Aunt Cassie," 
responded her employer, and with a smiling ^'yas, 
sah," Aunt Cassie went back to her kitchen. 

"May Helen go over to the brook with me this 
afternoon?" asked Philip; '^there's a fine place to 
go in wading if she wants to, w^hile I work on my 
water-wheel." 

44 



IN THE COTTON FIELD 

'Why can't we all walk over?" asked Mrs. Pied- 
mont. ^T'd really like to go wading myself." 

"So would I," responded her husband, and it 
was decided that later in the afternoon the entire 
family should w^alk to the brook. Mr. Piedmont 
felt some curiosity to hear Philip explain how he 
could use the water-power of the little stream to 
run a cotton-gin. 



4.? 





CHAPTER IV 

HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

HAT is a water-wheel, Phil?" asked 
Helen, as the brother and sister 
reached the shade of the oaks on 
their way to the brook. 

^'It's a wheel turned by water, 
of course," replied Phil ; "wait till 
we get to the waterfall and I'll show you; I had 
it nearly ready to work yesterday when father came 
after me." 

Mrs. Piedmont decided to rest at the foot of the 
little cascade, while Mr. Piedmont, Phil and 
Helen climbed up to the place which Phil had 
selected for his water-wheel. The one which he 
had made the day before, he declared to be only 

46 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

an experiment, as it was roughly whittled from 
pieces of shingles, but greatly to Helen's delight 
the fall of water striking against the paddles of 
the wheel made it revolve rapidly, and Mr. Pied- 
mont was well pleased to see that Philip under- 
stood the principles of water power so well. 

^'See, father," he exclaimed, ''a little shaft from 
the center of that wheel brought to the center of 
a wheel on his rock w^ould have power enough to 
work a little gin, and I'm going to have it all ready 
in time for the first cotton. I'm going to make a 
bigger wheel, though." 

^'Can't I help you, Phil?" asked Helen eagerly. 

^Tes," replied her brother, ^'and perhaps I can 
make you a little spinning-wheel next fall to spin 
cotton thread." 

'That will be splendid," declared Helen hap- 
pily, ''but how will you know how to make one?" 

"I can make one just like Aunt Cassie's, I know 
I can," answered Phil. 

"Of course you can," said Mr. Piedmont; 
"why, even in old Bible times we read that the 
country around Jericho was noted for the cotton 

47 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

spun and woven there; and they made their spin- 
ning-wheels without the use of the good tools Phil 
can have, and without as good a pattern as Aunt 
Cassie's wheel." 

''But what I want to know is when did people 
in the United States begin to raise cotton," re- 
sponded Phil. 

^That's right, Phil," said Mr. Piedmont, "and 
it's lucky that every South Carolinian can answer 
questions about cotton, for we were one of the first 
states to produce it. Virginia was the very first, 
beginning in 1621. And by the year 1700, the set- 
tlers wxre raising enough cotton to clothe their 
families, and spinning-wheels and looms were val- 
uable possessions." 

"I'm going down and get mother to go in wad- 
ing," announced Helen, and left her father and 
brother and returned to the place w^here her mother 
was resting beside the shallow pool of clear 
water. 

"Mother, Phil is going to make me a little spin- 
ning-wheel," she said, as she began slipping off 
her shoes and stockings. "Father has been telling 

48 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

him that years ago everybody wove their own cot- 
ton into cloth." 

^'Yes, indeed, a girl's education was not thought 
to be very thorough if she could not weave a bed- 
spread of wonderful design, as well as good cotton 
cloth." 

^'Could Phil make me a little loom?" 

^Terhaps he could; he seems able to make a 
good many things," replied Mrs. Piedmont. 

As Helen was dabbling her feet in the cool 
water they heard the sound of voices, and in a few 
minutes Aunt Cassie and Tom appeared. Tom 
was carrying a covered w^ooden bucket, and Aunt 
Cassie had a large basket. 

^^ust in time, Aunt Cassie," said Mrs. Pied- 
mont, who had left directions that their supper 
should be brought out to the foot of the waterfall. 
*T knew it was near sunset, although it is so shady 
here that w^e cannot see the western sky. Call 
your father and Phil, Helen." In a short time a 
white cloth was spread upon the ground and the 
little party gathered about it to enjoy Aunt Cas- 
sie's cold chicken, light biscuits, and preserv^ed 

49 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

peaches, while the wooden bucket w^as found to 
contain a jug of lemonade, carefully packed in 
ice. 

''There are worse places in summer than a cotton 
plantation," declared Mr. Piedmont, leaning com- 
fortably back against a tree and refilling his glass. 

''But you must remember that all plantations are 
not like this," said his wife. "Here we have so 
many beautiful trees, and this fine stream of water. 
But on many of the cotton plantations of Georgia 
and Louisiana the people cannot have as much 
comfort as we do in the summer season." 

"Well, it's a good climate for growing cotton," 
replied Mr. Piedmont, "and the planters there un- 
derstand the soil of their plantations." 

"What has soil to do with it?" asked Phil. 

"Everything, my boy. While cotton is culti- 
vated with more or less success on nearly all kinds 
of soil through the southern states, it is a most 
important thing to find out what kind of soil will 
yield the best crop. On sandy uplands the yield 
of cotton is usually very small ; on clay lands, es- 
pecially in wet seasons, the plants attain a large 

50 




I LL HURRY DOWN AND SURPRISE HER " 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

size, but do not yield mucH lint. The safest soils 
for the crop are medium grades of loam. You 
know, Phil, that the soil is a source of food supply 
for plants, and a good planter is careful to see that 
his soil has the right conditions of moisture and 
heat. When you begin to study chemistry you will 
find out that certain soils haven't in them the things 
the plants need to feed on, and that Is why we have 
to apply fertilizers.'' 

Helen had finished her supper and had w^aded 
down the stream. The brook made a curve just 
below the spot where they had been sitting, so that 
she was soon out of sight. The western sky was 
filled with lines of crimson and gold, and as Helen 
came out into the open field she stopped to look at 
it admiringly. Then her glance fell upon a stout, 
sturdy figure, moving slowly along further down 
the stream. 

^'Why, that's Aunt Cassle!" she exclaimed aloud, 
^^and I do believe she is fishing. I'll hurry down 
and surprise her," and the little girl made her way 
along the smooth bank as quickly as possible until 
she was directly behind the stout figure. Then 

52 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

with a little jump she sprang toward it calling out: 
*^Boo! Boo!" at the top of her voice. 

But if she had intended to surprise the fisher- 
woman she was not prepared to be surprised her- 
self, and the yell which responded to her ''boo" 
nearly sent Helen over backwards; for the figure 
that she had taken to be Aunt Cassie rose un- 
steadily to its feet, slipped on a wet rock and 
lurched forward face down into the shallow 
stream; while a frightened voice called loudly: 

^'Massy! Massy! I ain't doin' no harm, 
massy!" In a moment, however, the frightened 
woman had struggled to her feet and splashed 
across the stream and Helen had time to see that 
it was not Aunt Cassie at all, but a negress whom 
she had never seen. 

From the opposite bank the woman turned a 
frightened look backwards, and when she saw the 
little barefooted girl standing there, her look of 
fear changed to one of anger. 

"What you mean a-pushin' me into the brook 
an' tryin' to drown me?" she called. ''I'se a comin' 
right back 'cross that brook an' put you right in it, 

53 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

I is," and she came down the bank as rapidly as 
she had gone up it. But Helen was not easily 
frightened and stood her ground. 

^T didn't push you In. You slipped and fell in," 
she called back. ^'I thought you were Aunt Cas- 
sle; this is my father's brook. What are you do- 
ing here?" 

'^Tse a-gwine to souse you right Into this water," 
declared the woman, who was now nearly within 
arm's reach of Helen. ''A-rushIn' out ob de woods 
an' a scarln' an ole w^oman mos' to def." Helen 
was just thinking that it would be better to run 
than to be ^'soused," when the woman's foot slipped 
and again she fell forward in the stream, and while 
she spluttered and struggled, Helen turned and ran 
swiftly toward the w^aterfall. But the woman was 
now thoroughly angry, and on regaining her feet 
she ran after Helen with such speed that she soon 
overtook her and held her fast. Before Helen 
could call out she had tw^isted her apron securely 
across the little girl's mouth, and picking her up 
in her strong arms turned and made her way 
swiftly along the field, keeping close to the edge 

54 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

of the woods. She had not gone very far when 
she came to an old wooden shack, with an open 
door and one window, from which a wooden 
shutter hung by one leather hinge. 

^^I'll jes' leave you to repent a spell, missy," 
panted the old woman, as she entered the shanty. 
*'There ain't no folks livin' here now as I knows 
of, an' I kyant carry sich heavy loads as I uster; 
so I'll tie you up nice an' quiet and let yer be sorry 
fer abusin' a poor old mammy what never harmed 
nobody." As the negress talked, she slit long strips 
from her cotton apron and now tied Helen's hands 
behind her, and fastened her bare feet together. 

'^I got to git along home or I'd set a spell an' 
see how you like s'prises," she called back from 
the doorway, and swinging the door shut, she hur- 
ried off, leaving poor little Helen in the dark 
cabin. 

When Mrs. Piedmont decided that it was time 
for them to start for home she sent Phil down the 
stream to find Helen. He went nearly to the place 
where his sister had seen the woman fishing, and 
kept calling her name, but got no response. He 

55 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

was just thinking that Helen must have crossed 
the stream and gone back to the waterfall on the 
other side when he saw Tom running across the 
field. 

'What can Tom be running for/' thought Phil, 
for Tom did not usually trouble himself to hurry. 

* Where's Missy Helen?" called out the colored 
boy; ''I saw ole Mammy Spruce a luggin' a child 
along the edge of the woods jes' now, an' I was 
scared fear 'twas Missy Helen. Ole Mammy 
Spruce gets terrible ugly some days." 

'Which way was she going?" asked Phil. 

"Right along up thar," said Tom, and in an in- 
stant the two boys were running in the direction 
Mammy Spruce had taken. 

''She wouldn't dare carry Helen off, would 
she?" questioned Phil. 

"If she got mad she'd carry missy jes' as fur as 
she could," answered Tom. "Her shack's way 
over near the Mason place; I don' reckon she'd 
take missy far as that. What's that cabin door 
shut for?" he exclaimed, stopping in front of the 
shack where Helen was shut in. 

56 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

"P'raps they're in than Ef they be 'twon't do 
for no boys the size of us to face Mammy Spruce !'' 
and Tom's big eyes grew bigger at the very 
idea. 

But Philip had not waited to hear Tom's w^ord 
of caution. At the suggestion that his sister was 
in the little cabin he had given the old door such 
a push that it swung noisily inward, and Phil ran 
in after it, almost stepping upon the little figure in 
the white dress. 

It did not take him long to untie the strips of 
calico which bound Helen's hands and feet, and 
to remove the bandage from her mouth and lead 
her into the fresh air. Then the little girl told him 
what had happened, as they hurried back toward 
the brook. 

"Jes' think o' Mammy Spruce a-tumblin' roun' 
in de water," chuckled Tom. Philip heard his 
father calling his name and called back, and in a 
short time saw Mr. and Mrs. Piedmont coming 
to meet them. Then the story of Helen's adven- 
ture was re-told. 

"I didn't mean to make her fall into the water," 

57 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

said Helen, ^'and she was so angry she wouldn't 
listen to me." 

'^Drefiful fierce Mammy Spruce is some days," 
added Tom. 

^T must see Mr. Mason about the woman," said 
Mr. Piedmont. ''She must not be allowed to wan- 
der about. My little girl might have fared worse 
than being left half an hour in a deserted cabin 
with such a creature as that about." 

''I'm glad Tom saw her," said Helen, "I hated 
being all tied up and shut up in that cabin; but I 
don't believe she would have left me there all 
night." 

"She might have left you there for days," said 
her mother, who had kept her arm about Helen 
all the way home. 

But Helen was right. It was only an hour later 
when Mammy Spruce, thoroughly ashamed of get- 
ting so angry at a "little white child," came creep- 
ing to the cabin door to find it open and Helen 
gone. Then, frightened at the thought of what 
punishment might be meted out to her, the old 

58 



HELEN'S ADVENTURE 

mammy did not return to her cabin on the Mason 
plantation but started off along the road which led 
to Columbia, where she had children living with 
whom she resolved to stay until it was time for the 
cotton crop to be gathered. 



59 




CHAPTER V 



THE OIL MILL 




OWARD the end of July, Philip 
was constantly looking for the ap- 
pearance of the bursting of the 
cotton bolls. He had completed 
his small gin and his new water- 
wheel at the brook, and was very 
anxious to see if it would really clear the lint from 
the cotton-seed. 

While Philip was watching the cotton, his father 
and Mr. Smith w^ere looking over the sacks and 
baskets which would be used in picking the cotton. 
The picking of cotton is not an easy task. It 
means steady work bending in a hot sun, for cotton 
must not be plucked unless the sun is shining upon 

60 



THE OIL MILL 

it, and a constantly increasing weight on the arm. 
Mr. Piedmont and Mr. Smith were kind overseers, 
and realizing that the steady work was a strain 
upon the patience of the negroes, did all they could 
to keep them cheerful. As soon as the fields began 
to whiten with the opening cotton, preparations 
were made for pails of cool buttermilk to be taken 
to the field hands during the hot afternoons; and 
their talk or singing was never reproved, as Mr. 
Piedmont believed that he secured more faithful 
service from cheerful w^orkers. 

It was the first day of August when Phil, looking 
across the rows of cotton plants saw a number of 
white, fluffy, blossomy looking objects here and 
there. 

'^GoodyT' he exclaimed, starting on a run to 
find his father and tell him the news. ^^Father! 
father!" he called out, seeing his father coming 
toward the cottonfield, ^'look, the cotton is begin- 
ning to ripen. There are as many as a dozen open 
bolls in that row. May I pick them?" 

^^Yes," replied Mr. Piedmont, ''they are ripen- 
ing even earlier than I hoped. It has been a fine 

6i 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

season for cotton, steady warm weather and just 
moisture enough to keep the plants healthy." 

So the boy carefully plucked the white lint and 
hurried off to the brook. He put the cotton be- 
tween the two smooth wooden rollers, started his 
little water-wheel, and was delighted to see the 
cotton pushed through to the roller with its sharp 
teeth, made of tiny nails, which separated it from 
the seed just as he had seen the big gin do. 

In another week the big fields seemed to have 
blossomed anew, as the bolls opened and the pure 
white and creamy masses of the cotton fiber hung 
from almost every branch of the shrubs. Early in 
the morning the pickers were in the fields. As 
they filled their bags or baskets they were quickly 
emptied into larger baskets or boxes and carried 
away to the gin house so as to be safely under 
cover before the night dews came on. 

Tom hated cotton picking. On taking hold of 
the boll the fibers are quite firmly attached to the 
lining of the pod, and Tom would make a quick 
snatch, thinking to gather the entire lock, but only 

62 




THE BOY CAREFULLY PLUCKED THE WHITE 



LINT 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

to tear it in t\vo, or leave a good deal adhering to 
the pod. 

'^I ain't gwine to be no cotton-picker," he de- 
clared to Phil, as his white playmate worked be- 
side him to gather a basket of cotton for his gin. 

^'It's easy enough if you do it right," replied 
Philip. ^^Look, Mr. Smith says to put your 
lingers in the middle of the open pod this way," 
and Phil quickly cleared the whole pod with one 
movement of his hand. 

Phil found that his gin worked very smoothly, 
but there were so many things to attract his atten- 
tion in the fields and at the gin house that he did 
not go to the waterfall for many days. 

Mr. Piedmont ginned and baled his own cotton 
on the plantation, selling the seed to his neighbor, 
Mr. Mason, who owned an oil-mill. Philip was 
very anxious to visit this mill and see how oil 
could be made from cotton-seed, and when the first 
big load of seed was ready Mr. Piedmont gave 
his consent to the boy's going with it to Mr. 
Mason's plantation. He gave Philip a letter to 
Mr. Mason, and Philip was ready before sunrise 

64 



THE OIL MILL 

and seated beside the negro driver, with four strong 
mules ready and willing to pull their heavy 
load. 

'^Did you ever see them make oil, Uncle 
Moses?" asked Phil as they rode along. 

^'Yas," replied the negro, ^'I uster work in an 
oil-mill ; I w^as the cook." 

^^Cook?" laughed Philip. 'Tou used to cook 
for the men who worked in the mill?" 

The negro shook his head smilingly. ^'No, sah. 
I was de cook in de oil-mill. Yer has ter be a 
fust-class cook, yer see," he continued, noticing 
Phil's puzzled look, *'after the cotton-seed is all 
hulled and mashed up by the machinery they 
come a jumpin' along into the big kittles. Yas, 
they do. You'll see how 'tis over to Boss Mason's. 
Now some un' has to keep an eye on dose kittles 
and see dat de seed cook jest long nuff so's ter get 
de oil out. Generally takes 'bout half an hour; 
it takes judgment to be a cook in an oil-mill. 
Yas, sah!" and Uncle Moses cracked his long 
whip over the heads of his mules with an air of 
satisfaction. 

65 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

"The seed and the lint is all the good there is in 
cotton, isn't it, Uncle Moses?" asked Philip. 

''Land sakes, boy! I should suttinly think 'twas 
your grandpa a-askin' that question. 'Cos that's 
jes' how folks uster reason in his day. Those was 
turrible wasteful days 'bout cotton; they suttinly 
was," and Uncle Moses shook his head solemnly. 

" 'Tain't so now," he continued, ''yer paw makes 
money outen every part of the cotton plant. Yas, 
sah. Now you jes' take the stubble lef in the cot- 
ton field. Yer paw puts the cattle right in an' 
they clean off the limbs and pods so that by Janu- 
ary there ain't nuffin lef but the stalks; and jes' 
listen to me, boy. Yer paw don' waste the stalks. 
He puts a machine into the field and peels off the 
bark, an' sells it to some folks what uses it in 
some kind of floor-dressin', yas, sah!" 

''Are the cotton-seed hulls any good?" asked 
Phil. 

"They suttinly is," replied Uncle Moses, "they'se 
good cattle food. Fact is, everything 'bout cotton 
is good fer suthin'." 

Mr. Mason gave Philip a warm welcome, and 

66 



THE OIL MILL 

told him that he had chosen a good time for his 
visit. 

^'The seed is coming in now in big loads," he 
said, '^and we are working twenty-four hours a 
day. One gang of men runs the mill at night and 
another by day. You see this has to be done not 
to interrupt the cooking of the meats ; the 'meats,' 
you know, are the inside kernels of the seeds." 

^'Uncle Moses was telling me about being a cook 
in an oil-mill," responded Phil. 

^'I suppose you know that the first oil-mill in 
this country was built at Columbia about 1825," 
said Mr. Mason, ''and for many years after there 
were only a half dozen in the United States ; now 
there are several hundred." 

Mr. Mason's mill was not large, but as Philip 
entered he looked about in wonder. Mr. Mason 
showed him how the seed was cleaned and passed 
on to the hulling-machine, where it was hulled 
and cut up, and then carried on to the heaters. 
After the oil is extracted the meats are pressed 
into cakes. When these cakes are thoroughly 
dry, as occasion requires, they are broken up and 

67 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

fed to a mill which grinds them into a fine 
meal. 

'Ts that oil good to eat?" Philip asked curi- 
ously, as he watched the clear liquid dripping 
through a filter press. 

"Indeed it is," replied Mr. Mason, "it is as 
good as lard in cooking; and some of the men put 
their bread under the press where the sweet, fresh 
oil drips on it and eat it with a relish. Then, a 
certain quality of the oil is used for manufactur- 
ing purposes. It is burned in miner's lamps and 
used in some medicinal compounds. Certain 
qualities of it make fine salad oil." 

Philip told Mr. Mason of his gin at the water- 
fall and Mr. Mason promised to come over and 
see it. While Phil had been looking about the 
oil-mill with Mr. Mason, Uncle Moses had made 
a second trip with a load of seed, and it was now 
time for luncheon. 

"Can I put a piece of bread under the press?" 
asked Philip, when Mr. Mason told him that it 
was time to go to the house for the midday meal. 

"Of course vou can," replied his companion, 

68 



THE OIL MILL 

and a small negro boy was sent to the house and 
soon returned with a neatly folded napkin con- 
taining a thick slice of wheat bread. 

''It's fine!" exclaimed Phil at the first mouth- 
ful ; and although he thoroughly enjoyed his ex- 
cellent luncheon he told Mr. Mason that the slice 
of wheat bread and oil was the best part of it. 
This seemed to please his host very much. ' 

'T'll drive you home, Philip," Mr. Mason said, 
and Phil was well pleased to ride swiftly along 
behind the pair of gray horses which Mr. Mason 
drove, instead of going with Uncle Moses and 
the plodding mule team. 

''There's a lot of machinery made for cotton, 
isn't there!" said Philip as they drove toward his 
father's place. "I used to think that a cotton gin 
was all there was to it until it was ready to spin 
into yarn and weave into cloth, but since I've 
seen your oil-mill I know better." 

"Yes," replied Mr. Mason, "the oil is nearly 
as important as the cloth. I expect you w^ill be 
inventing some machine to help us make even 
better oil, some day, Phil!" 

69 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

'Terhaps so," answered Philip seriously. "I 
think, though, I shall try to invent a better cot- 
ton gin." 

^^That's right," responded his companion, 
^'that is what planters and manufacturers need." 

As they turned in at the Piedmont driveway, 
Phil saw Tom leaning against a tree. Mr. Ma- 
son was driving slowly and Phil called out, 
'What's the matter, Tom?" for the negro boy's 
face was sullen and unhappy. 

'What you t'ink?" he called back. "Missy 
Helen gone an' let out my nice fat 'possum. 
Been a' feedin' dat 'possum all summer on de bes' 
dere was, an' gwine to have him fer dinner ter- 
morrow; an' Missy stepped down and let him 
out." 

''Never mind, Tom, you shall have a fat 
chicken," Phil called back as the team passed the 
disappointed boy. 

"I wonder what Helen did that for?" he said, 
turning to Mr. Mason. But ]slr. Mason shook 
his head laughingly. 

Phil did not wait a moment, after his father 

70 



THE OIL MILL 

came out to welcome Mr. Mason and thank him 
for his kindness to his son, before he was off in 
search of Helen and to question her about the 'pos- 
sum. 

He found her under the pine trees with Tip 
and Top beside her. 

*What made you let out Tom's 'possum?" he 
exclaimed. 

'^It wasn't Tom's 'possum," replied the little 
girl, '^it was my 'possum. I bought it of Tom's 
mother and gave her the dollar that Aunt Ellen 
sent me." 

'^A dollar for a 'possum!" exclaimed her 
brother. 

Helen nodded as if fully satisfied with the bar- 
gain. ^T just couldn't bear to have the poor 
thing shut up any longer," she said; ^T kept think- 
ing suppose it was Tip or Top shut up, and going 
to be killed and eaten," and the little girl put a 
protecting arm over her pets. 

''But people don't eat puppies," said Philip. 

*'Well, Tom won't eat that 'possum, either," 
declared Helen. ''Do you know that we are go- 

71 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

ing to have a lovely time to-morrow? Mother is 
going to drive us over to Sweetwater Lake and 
stay all day." 

'T wonder if Tom may go too," suggested 
Philip, ''then he won't feel so badly about the 
'possum." 



72 





CHAPTER VI 

CROSSING SWEETWATER LAKE 

ilHE road to Sweetwater Lake led 
for some distance between fields 
of cotton filled with busy work- 
ers. Here and there they drove 
through little stretches of green- 
wood, chiefly pine and live oak; 
and now and then there were rough banks of the 
red soil which one always notices in that part of 
South Carolina. 

The sunshine and the heat were everywhere, but 
neither Mrs. Piedmont, Philip, Helen nor Tom, 
minded it very much. They all knew that it was 
splendid weather for gathering cotton, and re- 
joiced in it. On the way they passed many 

73 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

wooden cabins, most of them very poor and mean- 
looking, and saw many children, both black and 
white, playing in the sunshine. Half-w^ay to 
their destination they drove by a dark-brick cot- 
ton-mill, tvvo stories high, surrounded by small 
cabins which stood in the glaring sunlight with- 
out trees or gardens near them. Everything 
looked bare and ugly. 

Philip turned to look back at the little settle- 
ment. 'T don't believe mill people need live like 
that," he said, turning to his mother; ^^they could 
set out trees and vines, and plant flowers around 
those little houses, and then they would not look 
so hot and bare.'' 

'Tes," responded his mother, ''that could eas- 
ily be done. But the trouble is the mill workers 
do not own their cabins, and the greater part of 
them do not wish to. They move from mill 
settlement to mill settlement, and so do not 
take much pride in the houses that shelter 
them." 

'Well, then, the man who owns the mill ought 
to plant trees," insisted Philip. "If I run a cot- 

74 



CROSSING SWEETWATER LAKE 

ton mill I am going to have two trees for every 
cabin." 

'That's right, Phil," said his mother, ''but it 
would be much better for the people who live in 
the houses if you could persuade them to plant 
the trees themselves." 

"I wouldn't want to wuk in no mill," said Tom, 
from his seat beside Philip. "No, sah, I'd rather 
wuk out in de field." 

"Won't you work in my mill, Tom?" asked 
Philip laughingly. 

"You stick to raisin' cotton, don' yer go to spin- 
nin' it," advised Tom, w^ho had quite forgotten 
his lost 'possum in the pleasure of a day's outing. 

They reached Sweetwater Lake before noon, 
and Tom unharnessed the big bay horse, rubbed 
him down carefully with handfuls of oak leaves, 
and gave him a drink of fresh water. Then the 
horse was fastened in the shade of a big tree and 
Tom went to help Philip get his fish lines ready. 

"We ought to get pickerel enough for dinner," 
said Philip, as the tw^o boys made their way along 
the shore to a point where several rocks stood up 

75 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

from the water, from which they planned to cast 
their lines. 

When Phil and Tom started off to catch fish 
Mrs. Piedmont had spread a shawl under one of 
the live oaks near the water and arranged the car- 
riage cushions to make a comfortable seat. She 
and Helen had taken off their hats and were en- 
joying the shade and the soft lap of the water 
against the shore at their feet. 

The boys soon reached the rocks and were cast- 
ing their lines hopefully off into the smooth lake. 

^Wish't we wus over t'other side de lake," 
grumbled Tom, ^'dat's de place to fish fer pick- 
erel. Dey jes' natchuUy take to those coves whar 
dat watch-grass grows." 

^Why can't we go over there?" suggested Phil; 
*'it isn't half a mile across this lake." 

*We kyant walk; it's too deep, and we kyant 
swim, so how be we gwine to do it?" replied the 
colored boy. 

Phil turned an anxious look along the shore. 
He had noticed several pine logs partly in the 
water near where they were fishing, and now as 

76 



CROSSING SWEETWATER LAKE 

his eyes again rested upon them a new idea came 
into his head. 

^^ril tell you how, Tom," he exclaimed, pulling 
in his line and jumping from the rock to the shore, 
^^see those logs? Well, we can pole ourselves 
across the lake on one of these." 

'^One a-piece?" questioned Tom. 

^'Yes," replied Phil, ''you can go on one and I 
on the other." 

''It'll be turrible hard wuk to get those logs 
clar into the watah!" objected Tom. 

"Nonsense. Don't be so lazy, Tom," said 
Phil, who was already pulling and pushing the 
larger of the two logs nearer the water. 

"We ain't got no pole," continued Tom. 

"We can get a pole easy enough," said Phil; 
^^there's a whole pile of young saplings cut and 
piled up right over there. They'll be just the 
thing," and finally Tom, w^ho could think of no 
further objections, took hold of the log and, as 
he was much larger and stronger than Philip, 
soon had it floating in the shallow water. 

"I'll take off my shoes and stockings and leave 

77 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

them here on the shore/' said Philip, and in a few 
moments the two pine logs wxre wxU out from the 
shore, a bare-footed boy on each with a clumsy 
pole in his hand with which he pushed and di- 
rected his ticklish craft toward the opposite shore. 

Tom had decided to sit astride his craft and 
made very good progress; but Philip stood upon 
his log, and by balancing himself carefully was 
able to keep in advance of his companion. 

'It's fun, isn't it, Tom!" Phil called out. 

Tom smiled happily. ^'Yas, sah. My feet's 
cooler than they'se been all summah." 

They reached the long grass without accident, 
and here Phil, too, decided that he could fish bet- 
ter if he w^as astride the log, and carefully slid 
down till his feet were in the water. Their lines 
and bait were in their pockets, and Phil's first 
throw was rewarded by a vigorous bite; but in the 
excitement of pulling in the fish he forgot how 
ticklish was the craft upon which he had em- 
barked, and a roll of the log sent him splash into 
water above his waist. 

The log floated just beyond his reach and Phil, 

78 




THEY REACHED THE LONG GRASS WITHOUT ACCIDENT 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

finding it hard work to keep a footing amongst the 
clinging grass, grabbed for the end of Tom's log. 

^Wat you doin'?" shrieked Tom, for Philip's 
grasp on the log had made it bob and roll uncer- 
tainly, so that Tom was also sent rolling and tum- 
bling into the water. 

Both the boys grabbed at the log and, pushing it 
ahead of them, reached a more certain foothold 
and were soon on land. 

Tom was rather pleased than otherwise to have 
had a dip in the lake without the trouble of re- 
moving his cotton blouse and trousers; but Philip 
looked at his own log, now far out of reach, with 
dismay. 

^'How can we get back, Tom? We can't both 
cross on your log, and it's miles and miles to fol- 
low round this lake to where mother and Helen 
are." 

'^Kyant follow 'roun' de lake," Tom assured 
him; ^'reckon you forget 'bout Saluda swamp lyin' 
right up thar," and he pointed toward the upper 
end of the lake, *'that thar swamp kyant be crost." 

80 



CROSSING SWEETWATER LAKE 

*'But we must get back!" Insisted Philip. 

"Yas," agreed Tom, but evidently did not In- 
tend to puzzle his brains as to how It should be 
accomplished. 

^Tt's lucky you had hold of your pole, Tom,'^ 
went on Philip, ^'for now I see how we can get 
back. You can sit w^ell up on one end of the log 
and I'll hold on to the other end, and you can 
pole the log across." 

The colored boy turned a look of amazement 
upon his companion and shook his head. ^'No, 
sah," he responded. 

'We must," insisted Philip, and at last Tom 
consented to the attempt. 

'T can walk a long ways out," said Philip, as 
they pushed the log clear of the shore and Tom 
seated himself. ^'Now that I'm soaking wet I 
might just as well be In the water as out." 

Tom said nothing. He was frightened for fear 
that Philip might again upset him, and he poled 
carefully and sat steadily. Philip kept his hold 
on the slow-moving log, and gradually the oppo- 

8i 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

site shore grew nearer, the rocks were almost 
within reach, and then Philip's feet gripped at 
the sandy bottom and he was able to let go his hold 
on the log. The two boys scrambled up the shore 
and Phil looked at his dry shoes and stockings 
with a little sigh. 

^'It isn't any use to put these on," he decided, 
and taking them in his hands, and slowly followed 
by Tom, he made his dripping way back to where 
Mrs. Piedmont and Helen were. 

^'IVe lost my hat and my fish lines, and been 
across the lake and back," Phil announced, as his 
mother exclaimed at his wet hair and clothing. 

There was no danger of their taking cold, and 
they were all hungry for their luncheon, which 
Mrs. Piedmont soon had ready for them. 

Tom went to give the horse a feed of oats, which 
they had brought in the carriage, and then Mrs. 
Piedmont told the boys that they must not go out of 
her sight until they were ready to start for home. 
Tom curled himself up for a nap a little way from 
where Mrs. Piedmont was sitting; Philip got out 
his pocket-knife and dried it carefully. 

82 



CROSSING SWEETWATER LAKE 

"You might begin on my little spinning-wheel 
now, Phil," suggested Helen. 

"I haven't the right kind of wood," replied 
Phil. '^Say, mother, who made the first spinning- 
wheel?" 

"The first spinning-wheel was made so many 
years ago that I do not believe any one is quite sure 
who invented it," replied Mrs. Piedmont; ''but 
spinning can be traced back through many, many 
centuries. Perhaps someone began by taking a few 
cotton fibers and gently twisting them together 
with the thumb and finger of one hand, holding 
the cotton in the other, and at the same time draw- 
ing it out into a thread. Then some one discov- 
ered that if a bundle of cotton was fastened to a 
stick and carried under the arm that one could 
spin a thread as she walked about. So this stick 
under the arm was called a distafif, and the other 
stick, to which was fastened the end of the thread 
and by which it was twisted, was known as the 
spindle. And even to this day, in India, and 
many other of the less civilized parts of the world, 
the same rude methods are used. The name of 

83 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

the inventor of the spinning wheel is not known, 
but for many years it was the only machine used 
ior the spinning of cotton yarn." 

''Father was telling me that a man saw a spin- 
ning-wheel overturned and it kept on running 
while lying on its side, and that made him think 
that he could make a spinning-machine to be run 
by horse power, and he did make one. The man's 
name w^as Hargreaves," said Philip. 

"Yes," replied Mrs. Piedmont, "and when you 
visit the mills in Columbia you will see many won- 
derful and ingenious inventions which men have 
made to spin cotton. Now wake up Helen and 
call Tom, for it is time for us to start for home." 

Helen had gone fast asleep while her mother 
told about old-time spinners, but Philip was eager 
to hear and know more of the men whose discov- 
eries had made cotton one of the most valuable 
of plants. 



84 




CHAPTER VII 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 




LMOST time for school, Philip," 
said Mr. Piedmont one September 
morning, as the boy stood near his 
father watching the "compress- 
ors," where the cotton, by means 
of a press, was being baled ready 
for its journey to the Columbia mills. 

"Not for another week, father," Philip replied. 
"I do wish I could stay out here at the plantation. 
I am sure I learn just as much as I do in school." 
"Perhaps you do, Philip, in one way; because 
you are observant, and because there is a great 
deal to learn on a cotton plantation. But you 
would not want other boys of your age to be in 

85 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

classes ahead of you at school. Then, too, it is 
better for Helen to be at school regularly, and 
your mother has decided to return to Columbia 
next week." 

Philip sighed, and looked wistfully toward the 
cotton-press. The rough bundles of cotton com- 
ing from the gin ran under a series of smooth 
plates or levers, and were reduced by the pressure 
of steam from packages four feet deep to only 
seven inches when taken from the compressor. 
While in the press iron bands were put around 
the bales so they were ready for carting. 

^'If you were going to send that cotton a long 
way, would you bale it like this, father?" asked 
Philip, pointing to the pile of baled cotton. 

^'No, Philip, these bales are too clumsy for ship- 
ping. Each one of these will weigh five hundred 
pounds, and is too loosely packed. If I were 
preparing cotton to be shipped to New England 
or to Europe, I should have a new press, and 
should have the cotton baled and covered more 
carefully, so that it would not be injured on the 
way." 

86 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 

^'There are machines for everything about cot- 
ton except picking it, aren't there?" said Philip 
thoughtfully. ^'I should think that some one 
would invent a machine that would pick cotton." 

^^There have been such machines invented, but 
they have not proved successful," replied Mr. 
Piedmont. ^^It is about the same thing as invent- 
ing a machine to gather strawberries or raspber- 
ries. This could be done if it were not for the in- 
jury to the berries. Cotton-picking machines 
gather limbs, leaves, and bolls, and pass the whole 
through a cleaning separator that, the -Inventors 
claim, leaves the cotton In the condition of aver- 
age cotton picked by hand. I had a cotton-pick- 
ing machine out here and tested It, but It proved 
expensive and not satisfactory, so I stick to hand- 
picking." 

^^Mother was telling us about the first spinning- 
machines," said Philip. ^T suppose when I go 
into the cotton-mill I will see all kinds of cotton 
machinery." 

"You are fairly familiar with all the machines 
used on the plantation," replied Mr. Piedmont 

87 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

smilingly. ^^You know how cotton is ginned and 
baled, and you have seen what becomes of the seed. 
Now when you go into a cotton-mill, the first thing 
that you will see done is the weighing of the cot- 
ton. But the first machine that you would be in- 
terested in is the ^Cotton-Puller.' '' 

^'What a funny name!" exclaimed Phil. 

'^Yes, it is also called the ^Bale Breaker,' " con- 
tinued Mr. Piedmont. ^This takes quantities of 
cotton from different bales and mixes it. Then 
comes the ^opening.' The matted masses of the 
cotton fibers are pulled apart and the cotton is 
formed into a large roll or sheet, called the 'lap.' 
When the cotton is opened out it is very carefully 
handled. Any dirt which may have clung to it 
is removed, and it is then gathered together in 
small strands, or ropes of cotton." 

Mr. Piedmont now turned away from his son 
to speak with Mr. Smith, but Philip was too much 
interested to leave the subject, and ran after him. 

"But, father," he said, ''I want to know more 
about the 'Bale Breaker.' You said there was one, 

88 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 

but you didn't tell me what it was like nor how it 
worked/' 

^Xet me see if I can describe it/' replied Mr. 
Piedmont. ^^You know that the cotton has to be 
mixed before it goes to the spinners, to secure a 
better grade of woven cotton. Well, the ^Cotton- 
Puller' consists of four pairs of spiked rollers. 
The bales of cotton intended for mixing are put 
near what is called a feed apron, a sort of scoop, 
and a layer from each bale in succession is placed 
on the apron. Then the apron feeds the cotton 
slowly to the revolving rollers of the machine, 
and the result is a pulling asunder of the cotton 
by the rollers, into much smaller pieces ready for 
the next machine." 

^'But what is the ^next' machine?" asked Philip. 

"It is called the ^opener,' and is the most power- 
ful machine used in cotton spinning," replied 
Mr. Piedmont; "and the most important part of 
it is the beater, to which is fastened a large num- 
ber of steel spikes. These beat down the cotton, 
which is fed to it by rollers, and the opened and 

89 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

cleaned cotton is taken away from the action of 
the beater by an air current produced by a power- 
ful fan." 

"And after this the cotton is rolled out Into 
'laps/ " said Philip, remembering what his father 
had said earlier in the conversation. 

"Exactly, and then separated in soft strands, and 
is ready for the carding engine. You will under- 
stand these machines much better, Philip, when 
you see them at work." 

"I am going to see them at work just as soon as 
we get back to Columbia," declared the boy. 

"That will be next wxek," his father reminded 
him, and Philip started toward the house to find 
Helen to whom he wanted to explain all that his 
father had been telling him. 

As he passed the kitchen he heard Aunt Cassie 
singing loudly, and a fragrance of preserved fruit 
greeted him pleasantly. 

"What 3^ou cooking, Aunt Cassie?" he called, 
stopping at the open door and looking in. 

"I'm a-making persimmon jelly, honey," replied 
the good-natured colored* woman. "IVe put up 

90 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 

a sight of p'serves fer yer ma to take back to town 
wid her. Yer jest wait a minute till I gits yer 
a bite to eat, honey.'' And Phil was well pleased 
to w^ait for the thick slice of wheat bread well 
spread with persimmon Jelly which Aunt Cassie 
handed him. 

^Where's Helen?" he questioned. 

^^She's out on de front ve'anda playin' with those 
puppies. They suttinly are a trouble to me, those 
dawgs," and Aunt Cassie's smile vanished. 

'^Yest'day they chawed up my new dish towels. 
I don' take no comfort Vv'ith puppies, Massa 
Philip," and shaking her head Aunt Cassie re- 
turned to her preserve kettle and Phil went in 
search of his sister. 

''Oh, Phil!" she exclaimed, as he came round 
the corner. ''Do you know what day it is?" 

"September twentieth," replied Philip. 
^'Why?" 

"Why!" Helen's voice was reproachful. "It is 
mother's birthday!" 

"So it is," said the boy; "I don't see how I came 
to forget it. But what can we do? You know 

91 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

mother says that birthdays are to remind us to do 
things for other people." 

Helen nodded happily. ^'That's what we are 
going to do," she replied; ^^father planned it all 
and Uncle Moses has gone after them with the 
mule team." 

^^After whom?" questioned Phil. 

''Why, mother's Sunday school class. You know 
they are all little girls and work in the mill. And 
when father was in Columbia last week he saw the 
superintendent of the mill, and those girls are all 
coming out here to supper and be taken home in 
the cool of the evening." 

Phil did not look particularly rejoiced at the 
news. ''Does mother want them?" he asked. 

"Of course she does," replied Helen, "she is go- 
ing to have a nice supper for them out in the pine 
grove. And Tom is turning the ice-cream freezer 
this minute." 

It was an hour later when the four big mules 
came trotting up the driveway with their wagon 
load of pale-faced mill children. Some of them 
looked no older than Phil and Helen, although 

92 




GLASSES OF COOL LEMONADE 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

they were all twelve or thirteen years old, as the 
law will not permit the employment in the cotton 
mills of children under twelve. 

Mr. and Mrs. Piedmont welcomed their little 
guests and while Philip and Helen brought them 
glasses of cool lemonade the little visitors looked 
about curiously. 

''What do you do?" Phil asked one small girl, 
who had immediately made friends with Tip and 
Top. 

"I draw-in," she replied soberly. 

"I'm going to see all the machines in your mill 
next week," declared Phil. 

This announcement did not seem to interest the 
little girl much. She looked longingly toward 
the shadows of the tall pines, and when Mrs. Pied- 
mont suggested that they should go out to the 
grove where swings had been put up, she started 
off eagerly. 

"Humph!" muttered Phil, "I wanted her to tell 
me what 'drawing-in' is. I'll find out, though, 
when I go through the mill." 

The twenty little mill girls each had some special 

94 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 

thing to tell Mrs. Piedmont, and after they had 
time to look about a little seemed perfectly at 
home. They enjoyed the swings, played games 
among the trees, and exclaimed joyously over the 
ice-cream, and when the hour came for them to 
start for home they all declared that it had been 
the best time they had had that summer. 

^'I wish every day w^as your birthday, Mrs. 
Piedmont," declared one of the older girls, "for 
it's the only day in the year that I have ice- 
cream." 

Uncle Moses was all ready to start up his team 
when one of his passengers called out: "Where 
is Jane Maria Pennypacker?" and it was discov- 
ered that Jane Maria was not in the w^agon. 

Phil was sent back to the grove to look for her, 
and Mr. Piedmont went up to the house to see if 
by any chance the missing child was there. But 
after the most careful search, she could not be 
found. 

"What shall we do?" exclaimed Mrs. Piedmont. 
"We must find the child." 

Just then Aunt Cassie came cautiously around 

95 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

the corner of the house and beckoned mysteriously 
to her mistress. 

'Wat you t'ink, honey!" she whispered, as Mrs. 
Piedmont hurried to meet her, ''one o' those little 
mill scraps is hid up in my cellar closet. Yas'm, 
she sho'ly is. Fast asleep this minit." 

It did not take long to awaken Jane Maria 
Pennypacker, but the little girl began to cry bit- 
terly when Mrs. Piedmont gently led her up the 
stairs and told her it w^as time to start for home. 

"I don' want to go," she whimpered. "Fd a 
sight ruther stay here and play with your little 
gurl," but was persuaded that she must not keep 
Uncle Mose waiting, and took her seat in the big 
wagon, and Uncle Mose started the mules toward 
Columbia. 

The team had hardly reached the main road be- 
fore Philip was asking his father what a "draw- 
er-in" did in a cotton-mill. 

Mr. Piedmont looked at the boy smilingly, and 
said : "Well, Philip, I really believe that you will 
make another Arkwright, you are so much inter- 
ested in cotton machinery." 

96 



A BIRTHDAY VISIT 

'What is an Arkwright?" demanded Philip. 

"Arkwright isn't a machine/' replied his father; 
''but he invented the most important machine used 
in spinning cotton. His name was Richard Ark- 
wright and he was born in England in 1732, and 
he was not a great inventor, but he observed every- 
thing closely, and finally made a machine that 
would spin yarn by rollers. Arkwright was a 
poor boy, but he persevered in his undertakings, 
and was never ashamed to learn. When he was 
nearly fifty he began to study grammar, because 
he could not speak and write correctly." 

"Shall I see any of his machines in the Columbia 
mills?" asked Philip. 

"You will see machines that include Arkwright's 
invention and those of many other men," replied 
Mr. Piedmont; "but the real way of making a 
cotton thread to-day is not so very different from 
what it was a hundred years ago." 

"You haven't told me what 'drawing-in' is, 
father," Philip reminded him. 

"Wait until you get to the mill and you'll see 
for yourself," replied Mr. Piedmont. 

97 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

*^I begin to wish we were going back to Colum- 
bia to-morrow," said Philip. ''I know it will take 
more than one visit to the mills to find out how 
they spin cotton.'* 



98 




CHAPTER VIII 

TOP AND TIP 




HE last week at the plantation was 
a busy one for Philip. He and 
Tom visited the brook, took the lit- 
tle gin mill apart and carried it 
back to the house to be kept until 
another year. On this trip they 
took a look at the little cabin where they had found 
Helen. 

''It wouldn't be a bad place to camp out/' Philip 
said, looking at the stone chimney, and a rough 
cupboard built in one corner. ''Any one could 
cook fish and game over a fire here, and make a 
fine bed of leaves to sleep on in that corner." 

"I wouldn't sleep har', no, sah," exclaimed Tom, 

99 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

looking at Phil in amazement; '' 'twould be jes' 
de place for a ha'nt!" 

^T wish you wouldn't be so silly, Tom," said 
Phil. 'T have told you a hundred times that 
there isn't any such thing as ^ha'nts.' You just get 
frightened at your own imagination." 

But Tom shook his head, and repeated that the 
cabin wasn't any place to sleep. Many of the 
negroes through that region imagine all sorts of 
^'ghosts" or 'lia'nts" as they call them; an inheri- 
tance from their fetish-believing ancestors of 
Africa. 

Tom was having a week's holiday, and followed 
Philip about the plantation, indulging in frequent 
naps, but looking so unhappy whenever Phil spoke 
of his return to Columbia that the white boy was 
sure that his colored playmate would really miss 
him. 

'Tather," he said one day, ''couldn't you take 
Tom into Columbia with us when we go?" 

^'No, Philip," replied Mr. Piedmont, ^Tom is 
too lazy to take into a town. Here on the planta- 
tion Mr. Smith can see that he is kept busy some 

lOO 




THE CHILDREX WORKED HAPPILY 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

of the time, and that he will learn enough about 
work to earn his living; but in town he would soon 
become worthless, like those negroes you see hang- 
ing about street corners. Here Tom stands a 
chance, but I couldn't look after him in Colum- 
bia.'' 

So Philip said no more about Tom going away 
from the plantation. That very day Helen made 
a discovery which delighted Philip and made them 
both wish they could stay longer on the plantation. 

Helen and Phil were playing on the banks of 
the stream just below the waterfall when Philip 
noticed that his sister was shaping a tiny figure out 
of the wet clay. 

"Look, Phil," she exclaimed, "you can make 
anything out of this clay." 

"I believe we could make dishes," declared 
Philip, and all that afternoon the children worked 
happily shaping rough bowls and cups of the 
smooth, sticky clay. When their mother came to 
walk home w^ith them she looked at their pottery 
in surprise. 

"This must be the very place where my great- 

102 



TOP AND TIP 

grandfather made pottery a hundred years ago/' 
she said. ^^He used to make enough for the uses 
of the people of the plantation, and he sold what 
was not needed here to peddlers who carried it 
from door to door." 

''I do believe there is everything on a cotton 
plantation," said Philip. 

"In old times," said his mother, "almost every 
article of use was made on a man's own property. 
The houses were built by their owners and serv- 
ants, and much of the furniture was made on the 
spot. Spinning-wheels were made by local work- 
men, and so were the looms on which the cloth was 
woven. Wool and flax were products of a planta- 
tion as well as cotton, and different goods were 
made from these three materials. They got their 
dyes for colors from the woods and fields. Flides 
were tanned and all the shoes were home-made." 

"They couldn't make straw hats, could they, 
mother?" questioned Helen. 

"Indeed, they could, my dear. Hats of braided 
straw were made, and are still made in this vicinity. 
Baskets of every kind were made ; Uncle Mose, you 

103 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

know, still makes fine baskets of split ash and of 
rushes for the cotton pickers to use." 

'What else used to be made on plantations, 
mother?" asked Philip. 

"Pottery, something like those dishes you and 
Helen made at the brook, only there were potter's 
wheels to smooth the clay into shape and it was 
backed to make it hard and smooth. Wagons and 
harnesses were made, and so were nails and horse- 
shoes." 

''Why don't they make all those things, now?" 
questioned Philip. 

"For the same reason that we do not weave our 
own cotton cloth, because machinery can do it for 
us so much cheaper and better than we can do it 
by hand," replied Mrs. Piedmont. 

As they came near the house Aunt Cassie called 
out from her kitchen door : "Dat ar' Top puppy's 
took hissef off. Kyant find him no place." 

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Helen, "do you suppose 
he's really lost, Phil?" 

"Those puppies are ahvays lost," replied Phil, 
who had given a good many hours looking for Tip 

104 



TOP AND TIP 

and Top only to discover them safely at home in 
some obscure corner. But Top's loss this time was 
forgotten for the moment by the news Tom had to 
give them. 

"Wat you fink!" he said, coming out from a 
shady corner of the stable. "Lady's gone!" 
"Lady" was the big bay driving horse, a very val- 
uable and highly prized animal. 

"Looks like she was stole," wxnt on Tom. "She 
was in the stable and yer paw^ stepped in to look 
at her, an' she wa'n't thar. Your paw an' Mister 
Smif are a-lookin' all over de place." 

"And Top is lost, too," said Helen, but no one 
seemed to care about Top just now, although the 
little dog was to prove itself a more useful friend 
than any one imagined. 

"Where do you suppose ^Lady' is, Tom?" ques- 
tioned Phil, as he followed the negro boy back 
coward the stable. 

"She ain't so dredful fur off," declared Tom; 
" 'tain't an hour since I heard her a-whinnyin'. 
Tell yer wat I t'inks, I t'inks som.e er those low- 
lived niggers from Columbia has stole her." 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

^ Which way do you think they would go, Tom?" 
asked Phil eagerly. 

"They'd just nachully make off tow'd the woods 
an' keep still thar a spell," replied Tom. 'Tf 
'twa'n't so dry we could track 'em." 

'Tf those puppies were any good they could 
help us," said Philip. 

"Whar's Tip?" demanded Tom in an excited 
voice. "I'll bet they took Top off along with 
Lady; yas, sah! An' Tip will follow Top an' 
we'll fin' 'em bof. Yas, sah." 

Without waiting to tell this discovery to any 
older person the boys ran in search of Tip who 
was curled up asleep on the veranda. Taking the 
puppy to the stable, Philip set him down near 
Lady's stall. 

"Find Top," he commanded, and Tip needed no 
urging ; in an instant he was off running behind the 
cotton sheds and up the slope that led to the pine 
woods, closely followed by Tom and Philip. Now 
and then the puppy would stop, put his nose to 
the ground, change his course a little, and then run 

1 06 



TOP AND TIP 

swiftly on. When he reached the edge of the 
woods Tip stopped and seemed to hesitate, and 
here for the first time the boys were sure that they 
were on Lady's track, for the ground was moist in 
the deep shade and there were tracks of a horse 
and of a man's footprints. 

"Look!" said Tom in a half whisper, "some- 
body's a-leadin' Lady through de woods." 

"We must catch up with them and get her," re- 
sponded Phil. 

"Yas, sah!" replied Tom, "but we'll hev to go 
terrible keerful. Any hoss-stealer ain't gwine to 
hand over no boss to a couple of boys the size of 
us. We jes' got to manage easy." 

"There goes Tip!" said Philip, and the boys 
were instantly on a run after the puppy, who ran 
along the edge of the woods for a short distance 
and then went nosing its way carefully around a 
group of big trees. 

It began to get dusk in the shadow of the woods, 
but Phil did not think of this, so intent was he on 
following Tip. 

107 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

^^Don' make no noise," Tom cautioned; '4t's 
gettin' mighty thick woods har 'bouts an' we's 
likely to fall right 'cross 'em," and both bo3^s 
avoided stepping on dry twigs or stumbling over 
rough knolls or underbrush. 

They had been away from home several hours 
when a short joyous bark from Tip brought them 
to a standstill. ^'He's found them!" whispered 
Phil. 

'^Climb up that tree and climb quick," com- 
manded Tom, and in an instant Philip obeyed. 
Tom chose another tree, and they were none too 
soon, for they had only securely fixed themselves 
upon strong boughs when they saw a dark figure 
coming cautiously along from the direction in 
which Tip's bark had sounded. The boys, peer- 
ing down through the green branches, could see 
that it was a negro and that he was on the outlook 
for pursuers. He stopped beneath Phil's tree and 
the boys could hear him say ^^jes' the puppy a-fol- 
lowin' t'other one," and then the man again disap- 
peared in the shadows. 

The boys slid down the trees and crept cau- 

io8 



TOP AND TIP 

tiously along behind him. Tip did not bark again, 
and the boys did not dare keep very near the 
figure. 

^'Scooch down, Phil," whispered Tom, and the 
boys hid behind a bunch of thick shrubs. 

'^Thar's Lady," whispered Tom, and through 
the darkness Phil made out the figure of a horse 
tied to a tree, but neither the man nor the puppies 
could be seen. 

For a long time the boys did not know what to 
do. Finally Phil whispered, ''Tom, you must 
go home and get father and Mr. Smith. I'll 
stay here and watch. If he goes to lead Lady off 
I'll follow them, or find some way of getting her 
home." 

'T 'spec' it's nigh midnight," replied Tom, ''but 
I'll go, yas, sah! dat thievin' critter ain't gwine to 
walk off with our Lady," and Tom overcame his 
fear of "ha'nts" and vanished silently in the dark- 
ness of the woods, while Phil crouched behind the 
bushes never taking his eyes from Lady. He lis- 
tened intently for a bark from the puppies, but 
none came. 

109 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

The early morning light was creeping among 
the trees when Philip heard his father's welcome 
voice and dared to stand up and call out: ''Here 
we are, father!" 

'What's become of the horse thief?" asked Mr. 
Smith, as he untied Lady's halter. 

^'Evidently got frightened," said Mr. Piedmont, 
who was apparently better pleased to find his son 
than his horse, for the loss of Lady had been al- 
most forgotten when neither Philip nor Tom could 
be found; and it had been an anxious time on the 
plantation until Tom appeared with his story of 
Lady's being hid in the woods and that Philip was 
watching over her safety. 

The thief had disappeared and no trace of him 
was discovered. Mr. Piedmont praised Tom for 
his quickness and courage, and said that he was 
very proud of Philip. The boys were both very 
tired and hungry, and Mr. Piedmont put them on 
Lady's back and started them for home. 

^'But it's too bad we couldn't get Tip and Top," 
said Philip, as Lady carefully made her way 
through the woods. 

no 



TOP AND TIP 

^'Yas, sah, 'tis so," agreed Tom; ^'dey was mighty 
fine pups." 

They had just reached the edge of the woods 
when a chorus of joyful barks made Lady start 
into a more rapid pace, and the two puppies came 
jumping out from a snug little hollow where they 
had evidently been curled up asleep. 

It was a joyful procession that came into the 
stable yard. The puppies running ahead w^ere 
warmly welcomed by Helen ; and when Lady w^ith 
the two boys on her back, closely followed by Mr. 
Piedmont and Mr. Smith, came in sight, a loud 
cheer was heard from the men at work ginning and 
baling the cotton. 

Aunt Cassie hurried out from her kitchen to say 
that ^'breakfus' was nigh spiled," and reminded 
Mrs. Piedmont that she had '^allers sed Massa 
Phil was jes' like his Grandpa, brave as a lion!" 

Phil was glad to go to sleep as soon as he had 
eaten his breakfast, and for once Tom's right to 
sleep as sound and as long as he wished was not 
questioned. 



Ill 




CHAPTER IX 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 




WISH that I could work in a cot- 
ton mill," said Philip a little wist- 
fully as the Piedmont family 
drove by the big Columbia mills 
on their way home from the plan- 
tation. ^'Couldn't you get me a 
chance to work a week there, father, so that I could 
learn all about the machinery?" 

^' ^AU about the machinery,' " repeated Mr. 
Piedmont in an amused tone; ''why, my boy, it 
would take you more years than there are days in 
the week to learn all about the machinery of a big 
cotton-mill." 

''I'd like to work in one," insisted Philip. 

112 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 

'When you are a few years older you shall have 
an opportunity some vacation to work in a cotton- 
mill," promised Mr. Piedmont; ''but I would be 
breaking a law to even ask for work for you now. 
The law is that no child under twelve shall be em- 
ployed in a South Carolina cotton-mill." 

"But I should think that boys of my age could 
do a good many things," said Philip. 

"Yes, and children eight and nine years old used 
to be employed. But it was not good for the chil- 
dren. The confinement and steady work stunted 
their growth, they were growing up without any 
schooling, and the State wisely decided that chil- 
dren raised in a cotton-mill would not make the 
right kind of men and women." 

"There are too many children in the mills now," 
declared Mrs. Piedmont; "but the cash girl in a 
department store or the children employed in glass 
factories and coal mines have work that is more 
injurious in every respect. I do not think I could 
consent to Philip's wish to work in a cotton-mill." 

"But I am going in to see all the machinery; 
father said I could," the boy reminded her. 

113 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

'^Yes, Phil, I have done even better than that 
for you/' said Mr. Piedmont; 'T have secured per- 
mission from Mr. Carter for you to visit his 
mill whenever you like as long as you report to 
him in his office first before entering any of the 
rooms." 

'That is splendid!" declared Phil. 

^'I don't see what you want to go for, Phil," said 
Helen; ^'there are lots nicer places to go. And 
you won't have time to make my little spinning- 
wheel if you go to the mills every day." 

^'Yes, I will, Helen," replied her brother, ''and 
I can make it all the better after I have seen big 
machines." 

The next morning Philip was ready at an early 
hour for his first visit to Mr. Carter's mill. His 
mother smiled as she watched his sturdy little fig- 
ure going down the street toward the river. She 
was glad that he was so much interested in every- 
thing belonging to cotton, as his father's chief 
property was the plantation and they looked for- 
w^ard to seeing Philip a successful cotton-planter. 

Mr. Carter, the mill superintendent, and Philip 

114 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 

were old friends, and the boy received a cordial 
welcome. 

^What do you want to see first, Phil?" he asked. 
'^Shall we begin with the scutching machine?" 

Philip's look of surprise showed that he had 
never heard of a machine of that name, and he fol- 
lowed Mr. Carter toward the lower part of the 
building. 

The mill where Mr. Carter was employed was 
one of six large cotton-mills. It was a four-story 
brick building, with double walls, the space be- 
tween them being used for ventilating and heating. 
The elevator shafts were fire-proof, and the mill- 
shafting was all turned by electric power. Philip 
had often heard his father say that it was one of 
the best equipped mills in the United States, and 
he felt very proud indeed to think that the super- 
intendent was his guide. 

The picker-room was shut off from the rest of 
the mill by fire-proof walls, and from this room 
the cotton was delivered in the form of ^^aps," 
which are sheets of batting of loose texture, usu- 
ally forty-eight yards long, to the scutching ma- 

115 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

chine. Phil watched its feed rollers carry the 
''laps" along to a ^'beater," which gave the cotton 
its final preparation for the carding machine. 
He remembered what his father had told him 
about opening cotton, and quickly understood that 
''scutching" was simply cleaning the cotton. 

"Now for the 'cards,'" said Mr. Carter; "the 
'cards' straighten out the cotton into what wc mill 
men call a 'sliver/ which is really a loose, un- 
twisted cotton rope. These 'laps' come out ropes, 
and coil themselves up in these round cans." 

Philip looked at the carding engine admiringly. 
He saw the heavy lap of cotton pass over a series 
of rollers which carried it forward to others fairly 
bristling with a vast number of closely set and fine- 
drawn teeth, which combed and cleaned the fiber 
as it passed along. These steel teeth turned the 
fleecy cotton over a thin bar of steel and it fell 
curling and twisting in loose ropes or "slivers" 
into the cans. It seemed to Phil the most won- 
derful machine he had ever seen. 

"You have heard about drawing-frames, I sup- 
pose?" questioned Mr. Carter. 

ii6 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 

^^No, sir," replied Philip; '^but I know a little 
girl who told me that she was a ^drawer-in' in this 
mill, and I have been trying to find out just what 
she did." 

^Tou will soon see for yourself," replied Mr. 
Carter. ^Terhaps you may see the little girl at 
work." 

^'I hope I shall," said Philip. 

''Has your father ever told you anything about 
a man named Samuel Crompton?" asked Mr. 
Carter, as they entered a larger room. 

''No, sir," replied Philip. 

"Crompton was the greatest of cotton-spinning 
inventors," said Mr. Carter; "he w^as an English- 
man, born in 1753, and when he was fourteen or 
fifteen, he worked with his mother weaving cloth 
on a hand-loom at home, and attending a night 
school, where he was called 'a witch at figures.' 
He became greatly interested in trying to invent 
a machine that would turn out a better yarn than 
those in use, and after many years he succeeded. 
He was about twenty-seven years of age when he 
completed a machine, known as a spinning-mule, 

117 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

which has been of the greatest value to all cotton 
manufacturers." 

While Mr. Carter talked, Phil had been ear- 
nestly watching the machine which Mr. Carter 
called a ^^drawing-frame." Three men were at 
work about it, and Phil noticed that eight cans of 
*^sliver" stood in front of the machine, and these 
slivers moved upward between rollers covered with 
highly finished leather. The slivers were drawn 
out into one single strand, and fell into another 
machine, which Mr. Carter called a ^'slubber," 
which reduced the thickness and gave it a slight 
twist, and sent the strands on to be wound upon 
large bobbins. 

^^It's pretty nearly ready for the spinning-mule 
now, Philip," Mr. Carter said ; ^^there's just enough 
twist in it now to keep the cotton together; and 
youUl soon find out what Mrawing-in' means. 
You know that without twist there would be no 
cotton factories," continued Mr. Carter, as they 
stopped before a long line of cotton-frames filled 
with big spindles of cotton. 

''It is the twist that gives the thread its strength. 

ii8 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 

There is a slight natural twist to cotton and these 
frames are to give it an artificial twist. Look, 
Philip, see this strand of cotton leaving the front 
or delivery roller and going down to this bobbin. 
You see the bobbin moves loosely upon a vertical 
*spindle,' and the duty of this spindle is to give 
it the necessary twist. Now comes the winding, 
and winding cotton thread by machinery is one of 
the things which puzzled many inventors. You 
will see the drawers-in at work here, Philip. 
These spindles make nearly ten thousand revolu- 
tions a minute, and the high speed and the tension 
causes the threads to break frequently, and girls 
are employed to twist or draw the threads to- 
gether." 

'There's Jane Maria Pennypacker," declared 
Phil, noticing a girl deftly twisting threads. Her 
watchful eyes wxre upon the spindles and she did 
not look up to see who was going down the pas- 
sageway near her spindles. 

Philip noticed a number of boys taking off the 
full bobbins and putting on empty ones. 

"Those boys are called 'dofifers,' " explained Mr, 

119 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

Carter. ''They have to work pretty fast, but their 
work is not steady. It's about thirty minutes 
work to thirty minutes play. Sometimes when 
they are not needed they are allowed to play out 
in the yard." 

"I wouldn't want to be a 'doffer/ " said Philip, 
''I would rather weave cloth." 

''We will have to go back to the office now," 
said Mr. Carter, *'and w^hen you come again I will 
show you what a weaver does and what a cotton- 
loom is like." 

"Thank you very much, Mr. Carter," said 
Philip as he left the superintendent at the office 
door and started for home. He was eager to tell 
his mother and Helen all that he had seen. 

Luncheon was ready when he reached home, 
and Helen and Mrs. Piedmont were waiting for 
him. 

"I have a surprise for you after luncheon, Phil !" 
Helen exclaimed; "something lovely!" 

"Ice-cream?" guessed Phil. 

"After luncheon," Helen reminded him, and 
then Phil resolved not to guess any more. 

1 20 




" I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU " 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

'^I can't guess/' he declared; ^^my head is full 
of spindles." 

His mother looked at him a little anxiously. 
''Then I think you must wait a few days before 
you visit the mill again/' she said. 

''Oh, no, mother!" objected Phil, "why, it's just 
getting interesting. Fve found out how the cotton 
is made into yarn, and now I want to see the yarn 
woven into cloth." 

"But I can't have spindles in my boy*s head," his 
mother replied laughingly. 

"Now, Phil, shut your eyes and promise not to 
look until I tell you to," said Helen as they left 
the dining-room ; "and take hold of my hand and 
I will show you the surprise." So Philip closed 
his eyes and Helen led him down the porch steps. 

''We are going toward the stable, I know that 
much," declared Phil; and at that moment a half- 
smothered bark made him exclaim, "It's the 
puppies!" and Helen let go his hand and said, 
"And something else!" and Philip opened his eyes 
to see Tom standing in the stable door, holding 
Tip and Top in his arms. 

122 



PHILIP VISITS A COTTON MILL 

^'Yas, sah!" said the colored boy; "Boss Pied- 
mont tell me fetch in these dawgs to Missy Helen, 
an' he say I was to stay till your school begun. 
Sort of a vacation fer me; yas, sah!" and Tom 
smiled broadly. 

'That's first-rate, Tom/' declared Philip. 
"Father must think a good deal of you to let you 
come in alone." 

" 'Twas considerbul much of a job to drive dat 
upstart of a mule an' keep dose puppies in the 
wagon, yas, sah!" declared Tom. 

Phil was glad to have Tom in Columbia, and 
began to tell him all the wonders of the cotton- 
mill, but Tom did not seem much interested. 

"Cotton-mills wuzn't ever meant for colored 
folks," he said; "an' I don' believes thar's anything 
in that mill half so hansum' as de cotton growin' 
in de field; a-blossomin' an' a-growin', an' den 
a-openin' its pods into more blossoms fer us to 
pick. All white and fluffy. 'Tain't no use, dar's 
nuffin so hansum' as de cotton in de field." 



123 




CHAPTER X 

PHIL EXPLAINS A "LAW" 




RS. PIEDMONT gave her consent 
for Philip to visit the mill the next 
morning while Tom busied him- 
self in making a little kennel for 
Tip and Top. 

Mr. Carter was expecting Philip, 

and said: "Well, Phil, you have seen cotton 

planted, gathered, ginned and made into yarn, and 

now I suppose you want to see it made into cloth." 

"Yes, sir!" replied the boy. 

"Do you know what weft and warp are?" ques- 
tioned the superintendent. 
"No, sir," said the boy. 

"The yarn that you saw yesterday is ready to be 

124 



PHIL EXPLAINS A ^^LAW" 

used for weft; but before it can be used as warp it 
has to pass through a number of processes into a 
sheet form, consisting of many hundreds of 
threads, which are then wound on a beam. The 
ends, separate threads, say four hundred threads 
on a beam, then pass through a box containing 
starch to stiffen and strengthen the yarn and render 
it smooth.'' 

''But I don't know what Sveft' and Svarp' mean 
now," interrupted Philip. 

'The warp is the threads going lengthwise 
through the cloth. The weft is the threads woven 
across the warp," explained Mr. Carter. "Now 
when your warp comes out from the starch box 
it is drawn between heated cylinders and wound 
upon a loom-beam." 

As Mr. Carter talked, they had entered the 
weaving room, and Philip could see the weavers 
at work. 

"There are 'drawers-in' in this room, too, 
Philip," said Mr. Carter. "These loom-beams 
are now put into what is called a harness, and each 
separate end of the threads must be drawn through 

125 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

these tiny rings. But there is a new machine 
nearly ready for use which will set these workers 
free.'' 

Philip looked at the looms admiringly. One 
weaver was managing eight looms, but most of 
the operatives had charge of only four. He saw 
the shuttles and bobbins weave the smooth hne 
white cotton cloth, watched it roll smoothly 
through a machine called the ^'shearer," which 
sheared off all the loose threads, then it passed 
through a jet of steam, and heated rollers ironed it 
smooth. He went with Mr. Carter into the 
cloth-room where folding-machines, making the 
bolts seen in shops, were being run by boys who 
did not look any older than Philip himself. 

^Those boys are very proud of their work," said 
Mr. Carter as they passed through the room. ^T 
suspect they like it as wxU as you do making small 
cotton-gins," for Philip had told the superintend- 
ent of his water-wheel and gin at the plantation. 

'^How many states raise cotton, Mr. Carter?" 
questioned Philip as they made their way back to 
the office. 

126 



PHIL EXPLAINS A ^'LAW" 

'*It is the principal product of eigHt great states, 
and the most valuable 'money crop' of the entire 
country," replied the superintendent. ''Of the 
four great staples that provide man with clothing, 
cotton, silk, wool, and flax, cotton, by reason of its 
cheapness is the most important.'- 

"My father told me that cotton cloth was first 
made in India," ventured Philip. 

"I guess your father can tell you a great deal 
more about the early history of cotton than I can," 
replied Mr. Carter; "but I do know that at the 
very beginning of the eighteenth century cotton 
culture in North Carolina had reached the extent 
of furnishing one-fifth of the people with their 
clothing, and it was all spun and woven by women 
on hand-looms." 

After receiving permission to visit the mill 
again, Philip bade Mr. Carter good-bye and 
hastened home to begin work on the spinning- 
wheel which he had so long promised to make for 
his sister Helen. Before leaving the plantation 
he had secured a smooth strip of ash from Uncle 
Mose to use for the rim of the wheel, and he had 

127 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

whittled out the smooth spokes, so that now he 
had only to put the wheel together and make the 
bench to support It. 

Tom watched PhiHp busily at work and said: 
*^How long you calkilate to wuk on that ma- 
chine?" 

^^I want to get it well started to-day," replied 
Philip ; ^'you see, I shall have to go to school next 
week and then I'll not have much time for It." 

*^An' I'll hev to go home nex' week," Tom re- 
minded him a little dolefully. 

^'So you will, Tom!" exclaimed Philip, "and it 
isn't much fun for you to see me hammer away on 
this. Is it! What would you like to do?" 

A wide smile spread over Tom's face. "I'd like 
to go up an' see the State House whar dey mek 
laws! Yas, sah! Dat's w'at I'd shuh admire to 
do." 

"I'll ask mother," responded Phil, leaving his 
work, and running to the house. 

Mrs. Piedmont gave her consent, and the two 
boys started toward the State House. 

"I 'spec' de hev mighty fine machinery In dar," 

128 



PHIL EXPLAINS A '^LAW" 

suggested Tom, as they went through the well- 
cared-for grounds and up the marble steps. 

^^Machinery?" repeated Phil, ''what would they 
have machinery here for?" 

''To make laws wid," answered Tom. 

Phil stopped and looked at his companion in 
amazement. "Tom," he exclaimed, "you don't 
know what a 'law' is." 

" 'Spec' I don't," agreed Tom, with a chuckle; 
*'but I'se allers hearin' 'bout 'em; an' Uncle Mose 
tells me when I comes in to see you I mus' suttinly 
go to the State House whar de laws is made. 
What is a 'law'?" and Tom fixed an anxious look 
on his companion. 

"A law is just like this," declared Philip ; "if my 
father says that I must go to school because it is 
best for me, why, then I must go. He has made 
a law for me. And the way laws are made at the 
State House, Tom, is just the same. Every town 
picks out some man whom they know all about,-* 
and asks him to come to the State House here 
in Columbia and talk over things with men from 
other towns, and see what is best for people to do. 

129 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

Then when these men meet and decide what is 
best for people to do they have to do it, just the 
same as I have to go to school, because it is the 
best thing to do. Because it's a law. My father 
told me all about it.'' 

^Ts dat what a law is ?" questioned Tom. ^'I was 
shuh it was some kind of cotton machinery^, yas, 
sahl" and the negro boy chuckled as if delighted 
at his own mistake. 

''I don' wantah to go in now," he declared; "if 
a law is jest som'thin' yer got to do, why yer 
couldn't see it made, c'uM yer. I s'pose de mens 
talks considerabul w'en dey gets here," he con- 
cluded. 

"Yes," replied Philip, "I came up here last 
winter and heard them talk, when they were mak- 
ing a law so that children should not work in the 
mill at night." 

"I reckon dat's a good law," said Tom more 
isoberly. "I'se mighty glad I ain't no pore white 
chile an' hev to wuk shut up in dose mills." 

As the boys talked they had turned away from 
'the State House and were walking down the street 

130 



PHIL EXPLAINS A ^^LAW" 

toward the mills. They could see teams loaded 
with bales of cotton coming in and driving into the 
mill-yards where the bales were weighed and sent 
to the picker-room. Negroes were unloading the 
cotton, and were singing and joking as they 
worked. As the boys walked slowly along Mr. 
Carter came through the mill-yard and nodded 
pleasantly to Phil. 

^Where are you bound now, Philip," he asked, 
and Phil explained that he had just taken Tom to 
see the State House, and now they were only walk- 
ing about. 

^^I am just going for a drive toward the other 
end of the town ; you boys can go with me if you 
like," said the mill superintendent; and Phil 
thanked him, saying that he would like very much 
to go. Tom nodded his smiling approval. Rid- 
ing about with Philip and ''Boss" Carter was 
much more to his mind than working about the 
cotton-gin or in the stables at the plantation. 

'When you come in to the mill again, Phil," 
said Mr. Carter, "you must see the power-house; 
it drives not only a couple of mills but supplies 

131 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

electricity to light the city of Columbia and work 
the street-car service. We are very proud of our 
engine room.'' 

'^IM like to see it," said Phil. ''1 wish I could 
work in a cotton-mill, Mr. Carter. Father says 
perhaps I can some vacation." 

A smothered ejaculation from Tom on the back 
seat made both Mr. Carter and Phil look around; 
and Phil laughed at the expression of dismay on 
Tom's face. 

'^Don' want no cotton-mill," he declared. But 
Mr. Carter had a different opinion. 

'There is no finer business in the world, 
Philip," he said, ''and I shall be glad to tell you 
all I know about it. Why, cotton is the finest crop 
in the world to raise, and the prettiest to manu- 
facture into cloth. Just think of how important 
it is, and think that we are the greatest pro- 
ducers of cotton in the w^orld. We furnish four- 
fifths of the cotton for Europe and the United 
States." 

"And the cotton-plant has to fight for its life, 
too," said Philip, remembering what his father 

132 



PHIL EXPLAINS A ^'LAW" 

had told him of boll-weevils, and other insect ene- 
mies. 

^'Indeed it does. I suppose you know all about 
the black rust which destroys so many promising 
cotton crops ?'^ 

^^No, sir/' replied Phil. 

''It's a trouble which generally shows itself 
when rains are frequent. The leaves curl up, the 
plant does not develop, and early in August the 
planter begins to realize that his crop is seriously 
injured. Then, too, sometimes the bolls dry up 
before they are well-formed and drop off; and 
there is also a kind of rot which attacks young 
plants. You see I am almost as much of a cotton- 
planter as I am a mill superintendent. If you 
have anything to do with cotton, Phil, you must 
understand it from the seed to the loom.'' 

'Y^es, sir," replied the boy, "that's what I want 
to do." 

When they returned from their drive it was too 
late for Philip to work on the spinning-wheel ; but 
he promised Helen it should surely be finished 
before school began. 

133 




CHAPTER XI 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 




ELEN watched Philip at work on 
the small spinning-wheel with 
great interest. Philip told her 
about many of the machines that 
he had seen in the big cotton-mill, 
and repeated the stories which had 
been told him of the different inventors. 

Philip's workshop was in the shed near the sta- 
ble, and Tom helped him by planing off the plank 
which was to be the top of the wheel-bench, and 
busied himself in sand-papering the wheel-spokes 
to a proper degree of smoothness. 

On the last morning of Tom's stay, Mrs. Pied- 
mont came out to the shed, bringing a book with 

134 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

her. ^^How would you like to have me read you 
a story about cotton, children?" she asked, seating 
herself on a big box near the door. 

^Tirst-rate!" replied Phil. ^Tes, Indeed!" de- 
clared Helen; while Tom smiled and nodded in 
satisfaction. 

*Well," said Mrs. Piedmont, '^thls story was 
written many hundreds of years ago. Like many 
other important things, the origin of the cotton- 
plant Is a myster}^, and In the old days many false 
and amusing stories were told about It. By some it 
was believed that In India and Tartary there grew 
a wonderful tree which yielded buds still more 
wonderful. These, when ripe, were said to burst 
and expose to view tiny lambs whose fleeces gave a 
pure white wool which the natives made Into cloth- 
ing. Now, the story I am going to read you Is 
called *The Vegetable Lamb,' and gives the old 
ideas about cotton." 

^^How old?" asked Helen. 

^^About a thousand years," replied Mrs. Pied- 
mont, and began to read : 

^^A wonderful tree groweth in the country of the 

135 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

Tartars of the East. It beareth a blossom and the 
blossom ripens to a fruit. When the fruit is fully 
ripe, the outer skin or shell opens and a small lamb 
appears attached to the top of the stalk. This 
stalk is strong and flexible, and the tiny animal can 
bend downwards, and browse on all herbage 
within its reach. After it has eaten all the grass 
within its reach, the stem withers and the plant 
dies. This little vegetable lamb is a favorite 
food of wolves, though no other animal will at- 
tack it.'' 

^'What a silly idea!" exclaimed Philip. 

"We know it to be silly now," replied his mother, 
"but in those days many wise people believed it. 
It was not until 1725 that a German doctor named 
Breyn stated this story to be simply a fable; and 
he very truly said that the works and productions 
of nature should be discovered, not invented. 
There are even older stories about cotton," con- 
tinued Mrs. Piedmont, "stories written by Herodo- 
tus, the Father of History, over two thousand 
years ago. Herodotus traveled in many coun- 
tries in Europe, Asia, and Africa. And he re- 

136. 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

solved that he would write only of those things 
which he had seen and really knew about, and that 
he would not write down what other people told 
him unless he had seen it. In describing India 
and the cotton-plant, he says : ^The wild trees in 
that country bear for their fruit fleeces surpassing 
those of sheep in beauty and excellence, and the 
natives clothe themselves in cloths made there- 
from.' And he tells of a machine used for sepa- 
rating the lint from the seeds. 

^'Then there was another historian of those far- 
off days who observed carefully and recorded ex- 
actly what he saw. His name was Theophrastus ; 
and he said that the cotton-plant of India had 
leaves like the mulberry tree, that it looked not un- 
like the dog rose. He wrote that it grew in rows, 
very much as it does now, and that its fiber was 
woven into garments." 

^Then they must have had spinning-wheels thou- 
sands of years ago," said Philip. 

^'I suppose they did," agreed Mrs. Piedmont, 
^'and we read in the Bible, in the Book of Esther, 
about cotton hangings of Vhite, green, and blue,' 

^Z7 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

so they must have understood, even in those days, 
how to weave and dye cotton." 

''Oh! Here's father!" exclaimed Helen, as the 
roll of carriage wheels made them all look out to- 
ward the driveway; and in a few moments Mr. 
Piedmont joined the little group ; Tom running off 
to be sure that ''Lady" was well cared for. 

As Mr. Piedmont came into the shed he put 
down a small package on the box beside his wife. 

"Here is something that I am sure will interest 
Phil," he said smilingly. "It is a new microscope, 
and I have brought in some cotton fiber. You 
don't know what cotton is, my boy, until you see 
it through the microscope." 

Both the children deserted the work-bench, and 
came to watch their father unpack the fine micro- 
scope containing an adjustable glass. On the slide 
of the instrument Mr. Piedmont carefully adjusted 
several strands of cotton. 

"Now, Philip, you can look first, and then I am 
sure you will understand what is meant when you 
hear people speak of the ^natural twist' of cotton." 

138 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

''It doesn't look a bit as I thought it would," de- 
clared Phil, his eye close to the glass ; ^'why, some 
of it looks as if it was all twisted, and some of it 
looks flat, like ribbon, without any twists." 

*'Yes, that which shows a distinct twist is cotton 
that is fully ripe and ready for manufacture ; but 
the other is the half-ripe cotton which has been 
gathered too soon. The unripe cotton cannot be 
dyed; and sometimes when you see small white 
specks in any cotton cloth which has been dyed, you 
will know that it is due to the fact that unripe cot- 
ton was used in making the cloth." 

They were all greatly interested in looking 
through the microscope; and Phil called Tom to 
come and see the cotton-twist. The negro boy 
looked at it wonderingly and shook his head. ''I'd 
a sight ruther see it a-growin'," he declared. 

Tom started for the plantation that afternoon, 
taking Tip and Top with him ; as it was decided 
that the puppies would be much better off at the 
plantation. 

"Aunt Cassle, she won' be noways pleased to see 

139 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

'um back," declared Tom, as the spaniels were put 
into the wagon and he started off on his homeward 
drive. 

^T have been reading to the children what people 
used to think about cotton two thousand years ago," 
said Mrs. Piedmont, as the little party started to- 
ward the house. 

'Then perhaps I had better tell them something 
about cotton two hundred years ago," replied Mr. 
Piedmont, ^'although the beginning of the cul- 
ture of cotton in the United States occurred about 
one hundred and seventy-five years before it be- 
came of much importance. The first effort to pro- 
duce cotton on the North American continent was 
probably made in Virginia when the first colonists 
arrived." 

'When did South Carolina begin to raise cot- 
ton?" asked Philip. 

'Tn 1660, or about that time," answered Mr. 
Piedmont, '^and in 1708 it was one of the chief 
products of the State. In 1762 a paper printed in 
London said that the Carolinas furnished excellent 
cotton and silk." 

140 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

^'I think that what mother told us was more in- 
teresting," declared Helen. 

'^Come into the library," responded her father 
laughingly, ^^and I'll find a story that you will like 
just as well as you did that Vegetable Lamb 
fable." 

^Tather," said Philip, ^^is the root of cotton good 
for anything?" 

"Yes," replied Mr. Piedmont. "The American 
Journal of Pharmacy says that the bark of the roots 
of the cotton-plant yield a drug useful in medi- 
cine; in its effects it is much like ergot." 

"Find the story, father," urged Helen, and Mr. 
Piedmont took down a large leather-covered book 
from the book-case and began turning over its 
leaves. 

"Your mother's story was about the cotton-plant," 
he said; "now suppose I tell you something about 
cotton cloth as it was first made in England? You 
know the planters in this country sent, and still 
send, bales of cotton to England, where it is spun 
into yarn and woven into cloth. In the latter part 
of the sixteenth century, that is, about three hun- 

141 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

dred years ago, they began to spin and weave in 
their own houses, in English villages. But their 
machines were not much better than those used in 
Persia two thousand years before. When they had 
finished a web of cloth they had to carry it a long 
distance to sell it. And it was not until Har- 
greaves, Arkwright, and Crompton, and other in- 
ventors, made the carding-engine, the spinning- 
frame, and other inventions, that the weaving of 
cotton became of importance in England. With 
them, necessity was the mother of invention; some 
better way than the hand-loom had to be discov- 
ered to wxave cotton." 

^'Richard Arkwright is the one you told me 
about,'' said Philip. 

^^Yes, and here is what Arkwright has to say 
about his invention," and Mr. Piedmont read 
slowly in order that Phil might understand: ^' ^I 
have by great study and long application, invented 
a new piece of machinery, never before practised 
or used, for the making of weft or yarn from cot- 
ton, flax, and wool, which would be of great util- 
ity to a great many manufacturers, as well as to 

142 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

His Majesty's subjects in general, by employing a 
great many poor people in working the said ma- 
chinery, and by making the said weft or yarn 
much superior in quality to any heretofore manu- 
factured or made.' When Arkwright was at 
work on his inventions there was a little boy 
named Samuel Crompton, growing up in a neigh- 
boring English village, who was working out a 
machine equal to Arkwright's." 

*^Did Arkwright ever see this boy?" questioned 
Philip. 

^^Very likely. Young Crompton lived in Bol- 
ton, and Arkwright was at one time a barber in 
that town. Crompton helped his mother in 
weaving, and he knew that more yarn ought to be 
spun to supply the weavers, and he worked stead- 
ily at the problem until he had greatly improved 
upon all other inventions. But he reaped but lit- 
tle profit from his inventions." 

"I think as Tom does about cotton," said 
Helen, who had been listening. "I think that the 
nicest thing about it is to watch it grow in the cot- 
ton field." 

H3 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

''I like to watch it being gathered," said Mrs. 
Piedmont. 

*'And it's fun to see it ginned and baled," de- 
clared Philip. 

^'And I like to see the teams carting the bales off 
to the mills," said Mr. Piedmont, closing the book 
and putting it back on the shelf. 

"And it is great to watch it spun into thread and 
woven into cloth," added Philip. 

"It is good fortune when the cotton escapes all 
its enemies and reaches the mill in good condi- 
tion," said his father; "then the planter feels that 
cotton is the finest crop that grows. I have told 
you, Phil, about the different insects which attack 
it, and of the diseases to which the plant may 
yield ; and you know that too much rain means that 
the crop will rot; and that a sharp frost in spring 
will kill the young, tender plants; so you see a 
planter has reason to rejoice when the cotton is 
safely picked and ginned." 

"Yes, indeed," said Phil. Just then they were 
interrupted by a queer scrambling noise on the 

144 



VEGETABLE LAMBS 

front piazza, and they all hurried out to see what it 
was. 

"It's the puppies!" declared Helen; "they have 
jumped out of Tom's wagon and come home." 

Tip and Top seemed sure of a welcome, and 
jumped happily about their little mistress. It was 
not long after that the sound of wheels was heard 
and Tom's mule came trotting up the street. 

"They jus' boun' ter git outen this wagon," ex- 
plained the boy. 

"You can leave them, Tom," said Mr. Pied- 
mont. "I'll bring them out with me Monday 
morning." So Tom started off again for the plan- 
tation, chuckling to himself in satisfaction that he 
would not have to bother with Tip and Top on 
his journey. 



145 




CHAPTER XII 



CLUBS AND COTTON 




"1 OTHER!" said Helen as she came 
in from school one October after- 
noon, "our school is going to have 
a Cotton Exposition! And the 
teacher has asked me to bring my 
little spinning-wheel.'' 
'Well, you must tell me what a 'Cotton Exposi- 
tion' is, my dear," replied her mother. 

''Oh, mother! Of course you know," said 
Helen. "Why, it is what father went to Atlanta 
to see. It's where you see all kinds of cotton, and 
how it is woven, and find out things about it." 

"But how can your school do that?" asked Mrs. 
Piedmont. 

146 



CLUBS AND COTTON 

'^The teacher is going to have each pupil tell 
something about cotton. I am to bring my little 
spinning-wheel and tell all I can about spinning. 
Philip is to bring the microscope and show the 
other children the twist in the cotton and tell all 
he knows about the men who invented machines 
to twist cotton into thread, and each of the boys 
and girls has something to tell about. And the 
teacher is going to ask all the fathers and mothers 
to come. It's to be next Friday." 

*^I think it will be very interesting," said Mrs. 
Piedmont, ^'and the children in your school will 
all learn a great deal from a ^Cotton Exposition.' " 

When Friday came the big airy school-room did 
not look much like a school-room. 

The blackboards were framed in fleecy masses 
of cotton. There were strips of woven cotton 
cloth hanging on each side of the windows, and 
cotton shrubs in small earthen pots were set in the 
corners of the room. 

On the platform was Philip's gin, which his fa- 
ther had brought in from the plantation, Helen's 
spinning-wheel, and a small model of a loom for 

147 



THE STORl.: OF COTTON 

weaving cloth which Mr. Carter had loaned them. 

There wxre many fathers and mothers present, 
and as each pupil stepped to the platform and an- 
nounced his subject and then described some fact 
about cotton, Mr. Piedmont whispered to Mr. 
Carter that he was learning more than he did at 
the Atlanta Exposition. 

Helen's little spinning-wheel was greatly ad- 
mired by the other little girls. She showed them 
how by the motion of her foot she could keep the 
wheel revolving and twist the fleecy cotton into a 
fine thread. 

One boy, somewhat older than Philip, took a 
spool of white cotton thread and told just how it 
was made and wound upon a spool. Then an 
older girl held up a dainty apron of fine white cot- 
ton, trimmed with cotton lace made by machinery, 
and said, ''This apron really grew on shrubs like 
those in each corner of the room. It began as a 
blossom on the cotton-plant, then it was a white, 
fleecy mass of lint, then it was spun into fine 
threads and w^oven into fine cloth and lace. But 
it really began on plants like these." 

148 



CLUBS AND COTTON 

Philip explained what the twist in the cotton 
meant so plainly that all the children understood 
that the twist meant strength. They all took 
turns in looking through the microscope at the cot- 
ton fiber, and at the boll-weevil, and then at the 
finished cotton cloth. 

"Now, children," said the teacher, "we will 
bring our cotton exposition to an end by singing 
our song of cotton." 

The boys and girls all rose, and in a moment the 
big room was filled with their sweet voices. 

"We sing of fields a-blossom, 

Beneath the fair sunlight; 
We sing of fields of Cotton, 

There is no fairer sight. 

The gift of our fair Southland 
To all the world we send; 

There is no fairer blossom 
Than Cotton, useful friend." 

"Father," said Philip as the two walked up the 
street toward home, "I think to-day has been the 

149 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

best day of the whole term. Lots of the boys are 
talking about cotton and machinery, and we are 
going to have a club and call it the ^Cotton Club.' 
I thought perhaps we could meet in my work- 
shop." 

'Why, yes, Phil," replied his father, "that will 
be a good place for a club ; but what are yau going 
to do?" 

''First, we're going to elect a president," said 
Phil; "the boys all want me to be president be- 
cause they think I know a lot about cotton. And 
we are going to meet every Saturday afternoon 
and talk over cotton. And we're going to have a 
rule that if any boy talks of anything else that he 
can be expelled from the club." 

Mr. Piedmont laughed at this proof that it was 
to be a Cotton Club, and said : "And what else are 
you going to do?" 

"Well," said Philip thoughtfully, "we are going 
to offer a prize to the boy who can invent any kind 
of a machine to spin better cotton yarn; and an- 
other prize to any boy who can find out a sure 
way to get rid of boll-weevils. You see," contin- 

150 



CLUBS AND COTTON 

ued Phil, ^^each boy will have to pay twenty-five 
cents to Join and five cents a week to stay In, so In 
a year we shall have money enough for the 
prizes." 

"I think a Cotton Club Is a fine Idea," said Mr. 
Piedmont, "and when you have your first meeting 
I shall be very happy to treat the club to Ice- 
cream." 

^WIU you really, father! We shall meet to- 
morrow!" 

'Then I shall order the ice-cream to-morrow 
morning," said Mr. Piedmont. 

By this time they had reached home, and as they 
went up the veranda steps Helen and another little 
girl came running to meet them. 

'Tather!" exclaimed Helen, "this Is my friend 
Virginia Stevens. She Is president of our Spin- 
ning Club." 

"And what Is the Spinning Club?" asked Mr. 
Piedmont, as he shook hands with the slender, 
dark-eyed Virginia. 

"It's our new club," explained Helen; "we girls 
at school have been talking about cotton, and how 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

it grows and is woven into cloth, and about how 
our grandmothers used to weave bedspreads, and 
spin yarn, and we all thought It would be a good 
idea to have a club and meet every w^eek." 

"But why do you call it a ^Spinning Club'?'' 
questioned her father. 

"Because we are all going to spin!" answered 
Virginia; "we are all going to have little spin- 
ning-wheels like Helen's, and the one who spins 
best is to have a prize." 

"There^ Philip," said Mr. Piedmont, turning to 
his son, "there Is work for the Cotton Club. You 
boys can begin to-morrow and make spinning- 
wheels for the girls. You can talk cotton just as 
well if your hands are busy as you can If they are 
idle." 

"That will be great fun," said Phil, eagerly; 
"but I will have to go out to the plantation to get 
the right kind of wood." 

"I'll drive you out to-morrow morning," said 
his father, "and you can have your wood all ready 
by the time the boys get here in the afternoon. 
You had better see them all to-night and talk it 



CLUBS AND COTTON 

over with them, and tell them what tools to bring 
to work with." 

"I'll go find them now," said Phil, and started 
back down the street. 

The little girls were very much pleased to think 
that each one in the Spinning Club would soon 
have a wheel exactly like the one Philip had made 
for Helen. 

Mr. Piedmont promised to furnish the club all 
the cotton they could spin ; and said that some Sat- 
urday he would drive them all out to visit Aunt 
Juno, and that she would tell them a great many 
things that the members of a Spinning Club ought 
to know. 

That evening, after Virginia Stevens had gone 
home, and w^hile Philip and Helen stood on the 
veranda looking at the stars, which seemed to 
grow nearer as cool weather approached, Helen 
said: 'Thil, hasn't it been a nice summer?" 

"Yes, it has," agreed Phil, "and all because we 
were out at the plantation, and could watch the 
cotton grow and blossom and be gathered. And 
now we will have a fine time in Columbia, because 

153 



THE STORY OF COTTON 

we will be learning more about cotton at our 
clubs. I tell you, Helen, there's nothing like cot- 
ton." 

^That's what all Southern boys think," replied 
his sister laughingly. 

Other stories in this series are: 

The Story of Gold and Silver. 
The Story of Leather (in press). 
The Story of Wheat (in press). 
The Story of Linen (in press). 



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